The Next Generation
by IGetBoredEasily
Summary: Originally: SAY HELLO TO TRIPLE HOMICIDE! Murders have taken place and somehow, the evidence points towards Shawn. But Shawn knows who is setting him up . . . only problem, the one witness who can clear Shawn's name has been shot in the chest. That may or may not be Gus . . . . . Read to find out what the hell is wrong in the Psych world. Guaranteed Shawn whump and Shules!
1. Ch 1 : Flashing Back

**A/N: Hi Guys! This is my first EVER fanfic, and I hope you like it. I've tried to make this first chapter interesting, and I promise, this isn't my best work. I can write waaaay more action than this, so just hang with me here! This story is set around mid-season 7, and Juliet has forgiven Shawn for lying, and knows how he does the awesome stuff he does.**

 **DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own Psych, or any characters from the show, and I own especially nothing in this chapter. **

**Ch 1: Flashing Back**

 **1991**

"Shawn!" Gus cried. "This is crazy! Your dad could be back any minute now. We'll be caught, and you'll be grounded, and then I'll be grounded, and I _do_ _not_ want to be grounded."

"Gus, if you help me, we can do this. Dad doesn't need to know. But if you hesitate any longer, he'll be here, and both of us will be grounded most definitely," 13-year-old Shawn Spencer said conspiratorially, with a quirk of an eyebrow. With one swift glance over his shoulder from where he and his cocoa-skinned best friend were sitting, he placed the barrel of his father's emergency gun on the edge of the overturned table. He peeked over the edge and closed one eye, trying to wrap his right hand pointer finger around the trigger. But the gun was too damn heavy to be balanced with just one hand while crouching behind a table. Stopping his wobbly hand from dropping the gun over the other side of the table, Shawn took his aim, and stabilized the table with his left hand.

"Shawn!" Gus warned.

"Gus?" Shawn muttered, eyes never leaving the target, the bird's nest on the tree in the Spencers' backyard.

"Yeah . . .?" Gus replied reluctantly after a while, still wary of his over energetic friend.

"Shut up." With that, Shawn tightened his grip around the trigger, took a deep breath, and . . .

"SHAWN LANCE SPENCER!"

Shawn dropped the gun in alarm, trying to balance himself with the help of his left hand.

 _Crack_! The table landed over the gun, with Shawn on top.

"What do you think you are doing?!" Henry demanded angrily, face pink with anger. Shawn staggered to his feet, and scanned the area for Gus. Where did that little dollop of chocolaty goodness disappear off to?

"Um . . . Dad! Hey! Have you seen . . ." he trailed off, realizing that pink had, apparently, not been the only colour his father's face could attain. The colour was slowly darkening . . . red . . . redder yet . . . purple.

Okay. This will be a good time to say absolutely nothing except for what is asked.

"Well, uh . . . you always said that to be a successful detective, you have to overcome fear of new experiences . . . so I thought I'll try it out beforehand because—" Shawn was cut off by his father, whose face slowly started to become normal again. "Once you familiarize with something, you don't fear it . . . and we know that practise makes perfect," his father finished. Sighing, Henry took his son by the shoulders and steered him towards the backdoor of the house . . .

For a moment Shawn envied Gus. Obviously, he was getting away scot-free. But then Henry reached behind the potted plants on both sides of the back porch, tugging on the white shirt peeking out within the leaves, "You too, Gus."

Henry steered the terrified boys inside the house, to the living room, and stood in front of them, crossing his arms as he levelled his gaze onto them.

"Gus . . . why did you hide?" Henry demanded. Both the kids blinked when they heard Henry addressing Gus first.

"Um . . . I got scared. Plus, is wasn't my idea Mr. Spencer!" Gus said, quaking like a leaf in a thunderstorm.

Henry rested his hands on his knees, coming to eye level with Gus. "Okay, listen up, Burton Guster. Never, ever abandon your partner. No matter what. Fine! It was Shawn's idea. Fine, you protested. But when you have a partner as stubborn, you might as well give in. And maybe . . . sometimes plans work out, no matter how unrealistic or foolhardy. Except, in this case . . ." he turned his head sharply towards his own son, ". . . the plan was even more foolhardy and stupid than the acceptable. What were you thinking, Shawn?"

Shawn's left eye twitched once, but he refused to match his dad's gaze.

Henry sighed. "Shawn, son, listen to me . . . you made a plan . . . and you executed it. Great. That is what makes a great detective. Following your instincts. But you **can't** execute a plan until and unless you have the required backup. In this case, **I** was the necessary backup. I had to be there so I could teach you. One day, you'll be on the force, you'll have a family of your own . . . and you'll have responsibilities. You can't just up and do whatever on your whims. What do you know now?"

Shawn met his father's gaze and said slowly, "Trust your instincts?"

"And?"

"And what?"

"Shawn."

"Okay, fine, think before you do something."

Henry smiled, pulling his tie loose, "Attaboy!"

 **A/N: Sorry for such a short chapter. I just knew that the Spencers' middle name started with an 'L', so I just gave it a shot. I will update in the tomorrow, promise!**


	2. Ch 2 : What Just Happened?

**A/N: Sorry, I'm a day late in updating! Way more interesting stuff in this chapter! Hope you like it!**

 **DISCLAIMER: I do not own Psych, otherwise Shawn would have been injured in every episode! ;)**

 **Ch 2: What Just Happened?**

 **Present Day**

Shawn Spencer cocked his head to one side, raising an eyebrow at the mess that was once the neat little Psych office. Well, the halfway neat little Psych office. There was a huge, gaping hole in the middle of the window, from where the suit-clad assailant had jumped out, a thin layer of cracked glass along the edge, and Gus's table had cracked all the way from the middle, snapping it into two. Shawn squinted further, and he could almost see specks of blood on the totally nice carpet with a pineapple in the middle they had purchased two months back. Meaning that, of course, Gus's card had been charged when Shawn got his hands on it.

Grunting in pain, Shawn propped himself up against his desk, trying to scoot away from the pool of blood under his right palm.

 _His_ _own_ _blood_ , Shawn realized. That jolted him back to reality. Suddenly, Shawn was very aware of his surroundings, and of the voice calling his name over and over again.

"Shawn!" this time it was louder.

"Gus . . . ow . . ." Shawn mumbled, a sharp pain shooting up his right arm. So that's where all the blood was coming from.

Then something, or rather, **someone** slappedhis cheek, harder than necessary.

"Hey!" he protested. "Gus . . . I would like to invite you to stop being the bees on . . . pineapples— Gah! What the . . .!"

Now, Shawn sat up straight, glaring at his friend. "You pinched me! On my right arm!"

Whoops. Concussion, check.

"That's your left arm Shawn," Gus said slowly, making sure his buddy understood. "Now, man up. At least till I get you to the hospital."

"No, no, I meant right on my arm," Shawn tried to answer back. But it came out as, "Ho, ho, I met you on a dairy farm!"

"What do you mean – are you concussed? Did you bang your head somewhere? Do you know how badly you're hurt? I'm takin' you to the hospital, or I'm sure you'll lose your arm . . . and no, don't argue. You cannot learn to be a lefty through that fake online course you paid for with _my_ cash!"

And before Shawn could point out the pros of multitasking and . . . the cons of being a . . . black pug with a lace collar . . . . .

"Shawn! Where did they go?" Shawn turned his head with a grunt of pain to see Juliet, her SIG-Sauer in hand.

Looking at his girlfriend, Shawn blinked twice, taking in her casual attire. A sleeveless white shirt, first few buttons undone. Her black jeans hugged her form, and her slender legs. Wait . . . can legs be slender? Or is it just for arms? Her hair now came down to her shoulders, ending around her collarbones.

 _Date_ , he realized. They had had a date that night. What was the time anyway? Was it too late for a walk along the shoreline? And was it a bad idea to walk hand in hand with my girlfriend after a huge conk on the head? Will that make me say stupid things?

"Of course, it will. You say stupid things in general life! God knows what will happen when you have a hard conk on your head," Gus snapped. Huh? Had he said all of that out loud?

Awkward.

"Shawn?" she said again, looking at him this time, pulling her gun down and relaxing the finger around the trigger. Looking at her, Shawn flashed back to when had taken down so . . . so many Serbian contract killers in the forest.

With her gun.

And a crossbow.

She knew how to use a crossbow. That was **so** hot.

Her lips were light pink, without any makeup . . . and Shawn's mind focused solely on how her lower lip got redder at the point where she was biting it. Her eyes were wide with worry and a strand of her blonde hair was brushing against her cheeks.

"Shawn!" Jules said again, this time louder. "Help me out here, sweetheart. Did you notice anything? Can you remember anything about them? Come on, use that hyper-observance and eidetic memory together!"

Shawn blinked again, slowly realizing that she had asked him a question. But it was hard to concentrate. And that wasn't just because of the dull throbbing at the base of his head. Shawn replayed the last few moments: how her eyes seemed to take in everything around the office as she asked him the question. And then those blue eyes turned back to him, a look of concern filling them. Gus was poking his best friend in the arm, but Shawn found it hard to concentrate on anything other than his girlfriend and his right arm.

"Shawn, hey," Jules said softly, striding over to where Shawn was propped up against his own desk, and put she put a palm against his cheek. "Okay, let's get you to a hospital first. I've called Lassiter. The ambulance will be here any moment now. Where does it hurt?"

"Huh?" Shawn managed, unable to focus at all.

"Where does it hurt, Shawn?" Gus repeated Juliet's question, looking at him with concern.

"My head's throbbing. It's heavy. And my right hand came off," Shawn mumbled.

"Your arm is fine, Shawn. It's just a flesh wound. Where does your head hurt? Here?" Juliet transferred her palm from her boyfriend's cheek to the side of his head, then gently to the back of his head.

"There," he whispered, closing his eyes and leaning his head back into her palm. It felt cool against his warm and sweaty scalp. The funny thing was that he was pretty sure he had been hit on the top of his head, and the southern hemisphere of his cranium was throbbing with pain.

"Gus, did the bleeding stop?" she said after a few moments of silence.

"I think so. Now," Gus stood up, "if you'll excuse me, my gag reflex's acting up." Then he turned and strode to the bathroom. Juliet rolled her eyes, leaned over, and kissed her boyfriend on his temple, "You'll be fine, just close your eyes for a while."

Shawn nodded, slowly closing his eyes, with the feel of his girlfriend's hand against his skin and the sound of his best friend losing his breakfast in the bathroom. At least lunch was in an hour.

Shawn woke up to the sight of a vaguely familiar ceiling. And then he sat up bolt upright, getting the worst head rush in the history of mankind. He groaned in pain as the world blurred before his eyes, putting a hand to his head and trying not to put too much weight on his throbbing right arm, which felt stiff and unfamiliar.

"Ow . . ." he groaned, trying to blink away the blurry images.

"Shawn?" it was his sweet, sweet Jules.

Juliet had been sleeping with her head resting right beside Shawn's, initially, she massaged her boyfriend's forehead when they came in . . . and then ran her fingers through his soft hair and over his cheeks and lips. He'd sighed in his unconscious state and Juliet swore she could feel him leaning into her hand. Then, she'd fallen asleep beside him, waking up only when a text from Lassiter came in, updating her on Woody's report for the dead body found an hour after Shawn had been discharged from hospital.

Now she woke up, because she'd felt the sudden movement when Shawn jolted up in his childhood bed, and then had heard the pained groan. She lifted her head to see him grabbing the back of his head, wincing, and panting.

Putting a comforting arm on his back, she whispered, "It's okay . . . you're fine. Just lie down."

She helped him lie back, biting her lip in worry as his vision slowly sharpened, and he took in his surroundings.

"Jules," he said, "Why am I here?"

"Shawn, this is the safest place on earth for you right now, okay? We had no choice." _And_ _you're_ _under_ _observation_ , she added glumly in her mind.

"No. No way. Hell no. Uh-uh," he shook his head, wincing again. "I am _not_ staying in my father's house. _How_ could you guys even . . . I mean, is this some kind of cruel joke? Did Lassie put you up to this? No, scratch that, Grouch McJones doesn't joke. Was it dad's idea? It has to be. Gus wouldn't do something like that. He doesn't have the guts to do pranks. Which is weird because I'm pretty sure he asked me to call him 'Guts'. Where is that dollop of black magic anyway?"

"Wow. For a concussed person, you sure talk a lot. And none of that made any sense to me, sweetheart."

"Jules—"

"Listen to me right now, Shawn Spencer," Juliet said, adopting the strictest voice she could use with this guy. "I know you don't want to stay here, but you _have_ to, and since you are an adult, if our nights together are any indication, you need to suck it up. Now, tell me what happened, give me a statement, and maybe Gus'll bring you a smoothie from across the street. Got it?"

Shawn frowned, opening his mouth and closing it again. He did make a cute goldfish.

"Um . . . by all means, sure, let's get started!" he said finally, grabbing her arm for some support as he sat up a bit in the bed. "You remember that robbery case Gus and I were working on?"

Juliet rolled her eyes, "Yes I do, Shawn. It was two days back."

"Really, so I've been out for less than a day?"

"Less than three hours."

"Man!" Shawn whined. "I thought that after my first mano-a-mano fight, I'd be out for at least a week."

"This wasn't exactly your first mano-a-mano fight."

"It's semantics."

"Shawn."

"Okay. Sorry. So, yesterday, Gus and I went to the victim's place, talked to her before Lassie came to get her statement, and when we were leaving, I was pretty sure I saw that writer guy from _Explosion Gigantesca de Romance_ following us. Turns out, it was just a look-alike who turned up in the office this morning, gave me _bam!_ One on the head from behind . . . and I fought with him in my dazed state and threw him out of the window."

"You mean . . . he escaped out of the window after you stumbled and banged your head on your desk?"

"I've heard it both way, sweetheart," he gave her a goofy grin.

"So . . . this thug looked like Lance Elliot?"

"Elliot. Huh! Did not know that. And no, it was this guy, medium built, in a grey business suit. He had one of those cloth pollution masks on his face, but the eyebrows just screamed threading. And I'm pretty sure . . ." he trailed off, closing his eyes, frowning. That was his 'I'm getting a clue' face. I watched somewhat fascinated, as he muttered something, replaying a part of his memory till he found the clue. If anyone asked me, I'd say that having a boyfriend with an eidetic memory and a very high IQ was amazing. Okay, it was fascinating, and if I wasn't a cop, I'd be giddy and lovesick all over the place. Not to mention he was funny. But right now, he was neck deep in hot water . . .

His eyes snapped open, focused and alert with concentration. "He was a cop, or ex-military. His hand, it was in a fist most of the time. But I'm pretty sure that the pointer finger was calloused, from pulling triggers for a long time. He had a beard; I could see some salt and pepper poking out from underneath the mask. Horrible hair . . . greasy, oily, black, backcomb . . ."

I nodded, "Okay, I'll give this to your dad. He'll take it down to the police station when he goes there."

"Whoa, whoa, hold on a second. Why you are not and my dad is going to the station?" he asked, holding up his left palm, a troubled expression on his face.

Juliet frowned and then looked away.

"Jules, what is it?"

"There was a body found near that smoothie place you and Gus love so much."

"The SmoothieMan?"

"Yes. And there was some DNA found on the killer, some blood on his finger tips, apparently, he had fought back pretty hard. And a piece of a shirt. And a strand or two of hair. We've analyzed it, but Woody is still performing more tests for any other evidence."

"Why? Isn't that huge stack evidence enough to put the bad guy away?"

"Yes. Yes, it is," Juliet said in a small voice. "But, well, we're looking for some other evidence . . . hopefully this guy will be proven innocent."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Hold on here? Why don't you just bring him in for questioning? And why are you all working so much to prove this guy innocent? What am I missing? Wait . . . don't tell me, is Lassie the suspect?"

"No, Shawn. It is NOT Lassie— Carlton, I mean," Juliet said, mentally kicking herself for almost calling her partner 'Lassie'.

"It's your DNA all over the dead body, kid." Henry was leaning against the doorframe. Shawn's head snapped towards his dad's voice, disbelief on every cell of his face.

"What?"

"It's true, Shawn. That's why Juliet is here . . . you're in custody. And Gus is working his ass off at the station."

"What? I don't understand. How . . ." he trailed off, his mask of carelessness and goofiness long gone.

"Look, don't worry, we're trying our level best and I'm sure we'll find some evidence that does not point towards you," Juliet assured, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"When did this happen?" Shawn said in a slightly hoarse voice.

"Woody said that the time of death was around the same time as the attack on you. But a group of punk teens reported it and hour after we brought you here," she said, leaning closer to him.

Shawn frowned . . . he was pretty sure he was missing something. But the headache was back, and the evidence he was missing seemed to take a backseat against the nauseating pain.

The last thing Shawn remembered before he fell asleep the next time was his father's voice forming new words in his head: _There is evidence of you killing a guy, and you don't have an alibi. The only person who can confirm your innocence was trying to break your arms off. Now what are you going to do, Shawn?_

 _I don't know, Dad. I'm tired._ Shawn replied to hypothetical Henry before falling into a troubled slumber.

 **A/N: Will try to update by next week. This chapter was ready beforehand. Hope you think this story is worth it and hang on. I took a chance with Lance's name. His surname is definitely NOT 'Elliot'. Also, I made up the smoothie stand across Henry's street.**

 **And I forgot to ask you for reviews on my last chapter, even though it was just a flashback. So pretty please with whatever-pleases-your-palate on top, DO review! It's a very pretty button, great graphics on it, nice design! Wonder how nice it will be to touch it . . . or click it, whatever! :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hi guys! This chapter has the angst I've been dying to write. Things get better here on. Special thanks to** **PsychFan1** **and** **TheShulesLovinPsycho** **for their encouraging and lovely reviews.**

 **DISCLAIMER** **:** **I don't own Psych or any of the characters in this story. Oh, wait! I DO own the dead guy!**

 **Now enjoy the newest chapter of this story, things got just a little more messy . . .!**

 **Ch 3: Yeah, the Boyfriend's Going to Be a Problem**

The next time Shawn woke up, the throbbing in his head seemed to have lessened significantly, and familiar faces were starting to appear around him. Shawn grunted in concentration, catching the attention of the old penguin from 'Happy Feet'.

"Lassi-dophulus!" Shawn sang. "Never once in my life did I imagine you at my bedside!"

"Shut it, Spencer. Right now, you are in boiling hot water up. To. Your. Neck," Lassiter replied, stressing the last four words and raising his own palm facing downwards till his neck. "Besides," he said in a softer tone, turning down the heat of the glare, "I came to see O'Hara. The only thing she's been ingesting is ice cream, and Sweet Lady Justice knows that can't be good for her."

"Personally, I think an ice cream a day keeps the grey hairs away," Shawn said, before turning to Juliet. "Sweetie, I know what ice cream is for you, and I don't want you to eat it because of what it is to you. So eat something more . . . warm, and . . . salty . . ."

"Oooo-kay," Lassiter said slowly, "Never mind, Spencer. You stay put, I'll convince her, at least until you're able to make some semblance of sense."

"Lassie, that rhymed!" Shawn grinned. Meanwhile Juliet took the spoon she had been scooping the last two boxes of ice cream with and plunged it into the present one, and then brought it towards Shawn's lips, saying, "That made sense to me. It's a couples' thing, Carlton, you wouldn't understand."

"Neither do I want to," Lassiter replied without waiting a beat.

Shawn let her feed one spoonful to him and relaxed visibly as the cold, sugary wetness spread in his throat, and cooled his sternum, "Mmmm . . . pineapple-cherry!"

"Hm," Juliet smiled sheepishly. Shawn's obsession with pineapples was being passed on to her, much to the utter horror of Lassiter. "How're you feeling now?"

"About what?" Shawn plastered the carefree grin back on his face, but in his eyes, the message was clear.

"How's your head?" Juliet asked, beseeching his forgiveness through a hidden message her eyes.

"Better," Shawn replied, the grin slowly vanishing. Determination shone in his face as he added, "And as soon as the world stops spinning, we're going to catch the son of a bitch who killed that Jane Doe near SmoothieMan."

"Whoa, there," Lassiter said, just as Juliet retorted, "Over my severed arm!"

Both the guys gave her a strange look, pausing before whatever they intended to say. Juliet narrowed her eyes at them and said, "What? I can't say anything irrational when you guys practically say nothing else? What is this, the eighteenth century?"

Shawn opened his mouth, frowning, and then closed it again, and Lassiter shook his head violently and raised his eyebrows, before turning back to Shawn, "Spencer, you are **not** going to investigate this case, you're the lead suspect, damn it!"

Shawn sat still for a moment, and Lassiter looked over to his partner in uncertainty. Hadn't Juliet already told Shawn about the DNA and shirt? She responded by a mere shake of the head.

"I'm the **lead** suspect? Wha . . . I thought you guys were trying to prove my innocence!" Shawn said, incredulous. Lassiter 'Eh'-ed, and Juliet shot him a death glare, before looking back to Shawn, "Shawn, even if you were innocent, we can't let you investigate this case. It's protocol, we were barely able to keep you out of custody. And Forensics was at Psych. When exactly were you attacked, Shawn? Because you didn't call Gus or me. It was just a matter of chance that we appeared at the doorstep and he jumped out of the window."

"My alibi isn't good?" Shawn asked, though it seemed like more of a statement. "Wait, what do you mean— ' _ **If**_ **?** I didn't kill anyone! Are you actually thinking . . ."

"No!" Juliet said loudly. "We **know** you're innocent. Just . . . force of habit or something . . ."

"Uh-huh . . ." Shawn nodded, unconvinced.

"Well, that **wasn't** fun! O'Hara? A word," Lassiter nodded towards the door and Juliet squeezed Shawn's hand before following her partner outside.

Once outside, Carlton turned towards Juliet and confronted in a hushed voice, "What was that all about?"

"What was what about? Why are you whispering?" Juliet asked, confused. And a bit amused.

"You know, the—the _**IF**_ part. It was almost like you're expecting Shawn to be the killer. Not to mention you are the one who connected him to the case in the first place," Carlton added, raising an eyebrow. "Something on your mind?"

"No." Lie. That was a lie. There was a lot on Juliet's mind, and most of it was a burden she did not want to carry. Dark, murky thoughts were clouding her head . . . . .

Shawn was a con man. It sunk in. He was a con man. He **still** was a con man. As an officer of the law, she should have notified the chief of Shawn's scam the moment she found out the truth. But the pain in Shawn's eyes had looked so genuine at that time. But he was a con man. A liar. A fraud.

He was Henry Spencer's son, he was trained, and he was a genius inside an overgrown child. He could easily pull off a murder . . . several murders . . . and get away with it. He wasn't psychic, and no one knew―

 **Stop it, Juliet O'Hara. Just stop. Stop**. **That is your boyfriend, and he loves you very much**.

Juliet cleared her mind of these suspicions. She had been wary of Shawn for a few months after they had gotten back together 'officially'. Then she'd lost herself to his jokes, witty puns, sudden and unexpected 'I love you's and romantic gestures which made her feel like she was the most special person in whole of Santa Barbara.

"Juliet," Lassiter's voice jolted her back to reality. Carlton had used her first name. Maybe she should've cut short the daydreams a bit sooner. After assuring her partner of her well being, Lassiter left with the promise to update her on further developments.

Back inside Shawn's room, she found him sleeping on his side, an arm tucked between the pillow and his neck. Juliet made her way across the room and put her head under the crook of his arm, smiling up at his sleeping face. Then she took a deep breath, and let it out. That felt nice.

Another deep breath. It's fine now. Exhale..

Inhale. Shawn's almost ready to start dancing. He'll be fine. Exhale.

Inhale. Exhale.

For the first time that day, Juliet felt her worries melt away, if only briefly. She stood up and walked around the room, laughing quietly as she realized that the only times she had been to this room, it had been under bleak situations.

Today.

The day the Yin-Yang fiasco ended.

The night when Shawn came here when Carp shot his dad.

He'd sat down in on the bed, one knee up, the other leg stretched out, staring blankly at an old, used silhouette used for target practise beside a BB gun. Then he'd taken the gun, and had shot the cardboard, without break. While he was firing his second last shot, Juliet had found him there, and had stood behind the door, waiting for him to finish. After one last shot, he'd turned his head slowly towards the door and had beckoned for Juliet to come inside.

Somehow, he knew she was there. His senses were too sharp, and his brain worked too quickly. It would be easy for him to kill hundreds of people . . . and not leave a mark.

And in this case, they **had** found evidence of him committing the crime on the victim's body. Juliet flashed back yet again to when he'd covered up his presence in Dorian Creech's office the night he'd died. He had done an excellent cover up. Maybe he'd been sloppy on purpose. Maybe he didn't want to make Gus suspicious.

And what about Gus? He passes out on the sight of blood. Was he acting too? Was he in on this? Did they kill Creech after all?

Juliet shuddered when she realised that she was thinking about Shawn being a murderer again. And then she realized that while her mind had been working out the motive, means and opportunity, her hands had found something.

Tucked carefully behind a layer of old records, hidden from view, was a letter. It wasn't Shawn's handwriting . . . but his name was signed at the end. She read the letter . . . once, twice, thrice, and started shaking. Fourth time, she gasped, pushing it back behind the records as she felt a slight movement from Shawn. She panicked.

It was natural. She had to panic. A sane person would panic.

But a sane person wouldn't do what she did next. A sane person wouldn't grab the first aid kit, take a hell lot more morphine than required, in the syringe and plunge it down against her boyfriend's arm.

Then she cleaned the needle, stumbling out of the room, feeling very unsafe in the Spencer household at that moment. Before Henry could catch her running away, she sprinted to her car, jumped in, and sped away, to the police station, towards safety.

What she didn't see was the truck speeding towards her car . . . at least, not till the last moment . . .

And she swerved hard to the right, off the road and into a tree.

And thank God for that tree, because she would have died if not for it. Beyond the edge of the cliff on which her car had been trapped, stretched the endless ocean, huge, jagged rocks visible on the surface from afar.

Shakily, Juliet grabbed her phone and dialled.

"O'Hara," Lassiter greeted.

"Carlton," she whispered shakily, afraid to move for the fear of broken bones. "I need help."

 **A/N: Thank you all loyal, amazing people for reading! Sorry for the cliffhanger. I'll try to update in the next two days. But please, please, do take time to review! You know, even guests** _ **can**_ **review. So pretty please with chocolate muffin on top, DOOOOO . . . review! ;)**


	4. Ch 4 : Guess Who's In Town?

**A/N: I am soooooooooo sorry for not keeping my promise. But this chapter was written in the middle of the night, when I had a huge attack of inspiration. I swear I will try to finish half of this story before 22nd June. That's when my exams start, and after I'll be able to update after two weeks only. So just hang with me here. Cause this chapter has a LOT more action than ever before. It's angsty, and ends with a half-cliffhanger. Sorry for that.**

 **I'll try my best to post the next chapter in two days. Sorry for the extremely long A/N! Enjoy!**

 **DISCLAIMER:** **I do not own Psych or any of the characters in this story except for the ones that never actually appeared on the real show.**

 **Ch 4: Guess Who's in Town!**

Shawn's eyes opened to see his father bending over him, glaring at him. Groaning, Shawn sat up and muttered, "I had the shortest, craziest dream of my lifetime." That was absolutely true. He had dreamt that Jules had knocked him out with an injection . . . and that was that.

"Yeah? What's that, son?" Henry asked, his voice suspiciously calm.

Shawn frowned, realising his dad was holding something in his fist. He pointed at it and said, "What's that?"

"You tell me," Henry sighed, handing over the crumpled sheet to his son and fixed his glare right back on. Shaking his head slightly, Shawn un-crumpled (is that a word?) the paper and turned it over to where he could see something written in blue ink . . . and strangely, in his handwriting. Then he froze, "Where'd you find this, dad?"

"It was on the floor when I came in. Now, when were you going to tell me that you were making plans with a serial killer?"

"I wasn't. I mean, I wasn't making plans. And it wasn't Yang . . . these letters are from Yin."

After recovering from what was evidently shock, Henry turned back to Shawn, "What do you mean . . . Yin's **alive**?"

"Yes. Yes, he is. And you weren't supposed to find out. Nobody was supposed to find out," Shawn groaned, finally realizing the enormity of the situation. He put his head in his hands and groaned again. "Yin sent me this letter last month, on Christmas, and warned me not to let anyone know, if I valued their life. Now, **you** know. You were the last person who was supposed to know."

"Why's that?" Henry said with the quirk of an eyebrow.

"Because . . ." Shawn looked away, despair drowning his heart. Last month Yin did send him a letter, just to tell Shawn he was alive. Yang hadn't killed Yin. She had been playing along. There had been a lot going on behind the scenes and Yin had given Shawn a backstage pass. Apparently, Shawn was allowed to investigate further into the process of Yin-Yang's, as long as he abandoned backup. Anyone else who would find out would be the serial-killer duo's next victim. As long as no one knew, there would be no victims. And his dad had found the paper on the floor, which meant that someone else knew this as well . . . which meant that there were two prospective victims. Crap.

And Shawn had dismissed any thoughts to investigating this case again. He wasn't ready to deal with those two again.

Yet.

Maybe he would never be.

The happiness he had felt when the thing ended was indescribable. And now he couldn't believe that the whole thing was about to start again.

"Shawn, I'm waiting . . ." Henry said, still looking at him with a doubtful expression.

Shawn realised he could lose his father again. When Carp had shot him, Shawn had become crazy, all hopped up on coffee and Jamba Juice as he ran across the city looking for his dad's shooter.

And these two had become more personally involved with Shawn than he had ever wanted. They knew exactly what would break the pseudo psychic.

"Dad, no, you don't understand!" Shawn said, voice rising with every word. His chest started to feel tight and he sat up straight in his bed, swinging his legs down the side and firmly placing them on the ground. "Oh, God! Oh God, no. Not this again," he murmured.

"Whoa, calm down there! You can tell me this, Shawn. It's me. Yin is alive, okay. Is he after you again?" Shawn looked at his father; eyes filled with pure terror and strangely enough, shock, and said, "Yes."

Lassiter had called Shawn. It was the first thing he had done after getting his partner to the hospital, where she now sat across him, cradling her fractured right arm. Then, after about ten minutes of silence, she broke down.

Startled, Carlton had crossed over to where Juliet was seated and had asked her in a concerned voice about what had happened. If Spencer had suddenly decided to go comatose . . . then God help him, for Lassiter was going to make sure that the psychic went through hell when he woke up.

It was Juliet. Juliet was the second person who knew.

Of the two most important people in his life with whom he did not share a blood relation, one was now exposed to a serial killer hell bent on revenge . . . and it was Shawn's fault.

And the worst part was . . . well, the whole damn news had been the worst thing he heard, mainly because it was conveyed via Captain Sunshine Lassiekins. Shawn groaned for the millionth time that day.

It started right after his Dad asked him about Yin, and Shawn groaned for the 888,000,444,111th time. His phone started vibrating from where it sat on his bedside table, and he grabbed it, frowning when the caller ID displayed Lassie's name.

"Lassie?" Shawn answered the phone.

"No, it's Santa Clause, you numbskull! Of course it's me. Who else would be calling you from my phone?" Lassiter snapped. Shawn frowned, tilting his head a bit, "Eh . . . guess that makes sense. Why'd you call?"

"It's about . . . wait. Are you alright, Spencer?" Lassie asked, and Shawn could hear the frown in his voice.

"Hey man, I just got my head bashed and saw my attacker jump out of our double paned Psych window. So cut me some slack on the no-snarky-comments dilemma," Shawn snapped. Henry raised his eyebrows at him. And Shawn sighed, putting a hand to his head. Yin-Yang were getting all up in his head again. And he needed to stop that. And Shawn was not psychic, but he had a pretty good feeling that his Dad wasn't up for lightening the mood. When will Gus come?!

"You're not fine. Never mind. It's O'Hara," Lassie said, and before he could say anything else, Shawn sat up straight and shouted, " **Is** **she** **hurt**?"

"Huh. Well, she fractured her right arm . . . but she's fine otherwise . . . I think. Did she tell you about the accident already?"

"What **ACCIDENT**?" he cried out, jumping up to his feet, ignoring how his head throbbed in protest. Then he took in a deep breath. _Calm down,_ he chided himself. _Don't be the Indian version of Rumpelstiltskin._ "I mean . . . uh, I sensed she's hurt."

"Don't tell me you had a vision about my partner getting into a car crash and―" Shawn cut him off, recalling how uncomfortable Jules became when Shawn played the psychic card, "No, I mean, just . . . I had a premonition, not a vision. Just a gut feeling. Will you tell me what's wrong?"

"Well, O'Hara . . . Juliet got into a car crash and she called me. Her right arm's fractured, but other than that, she's unscathed. But . . . uh . . ."

"For God's damn sake, Lassiter," Shawn growled, absolutely out of patience. In the last twelve hours, he'd been attacked, he'd become a murder suspect (and had no evidence proving him innocent, he might add), and had endangered his father's life along with someone else's. He needed a break. Some solace that while he dealt with Yin-Yang, his loved ones would be okay, and that his own life wouldn't fall apart. He didn't want his mom strapped to a bomb . . . he didn't want Jules and someone else's life in jeopardy while he had to choose who was more worthy of living . . . and he didn't want a needle filled with lethal poison hovering millimetres above his best friend's skin.

"Um. She's crying," Lassiter finally spit out. And Shawn heaved a sigh of relief. "Come on, man. She must be scared, or, or maybe her arm's hurting. Get her some lukewarm and thick hot chocolate with low sugar . . . that's her favourite thing."

"Yeah, I don't think that's the reason . . . and . . . _**what**_ _? What's that supposed to mean . . . huh. Okay . . ._ Spencer, hold on . . . _yes! I called him. You were in a car crash . . ._ _ **what**_ _? O'Hara, you're not making any sense. Fine!"_ Shawn sighed. "Spencer, she wants you to know that she's seen the letter. And . . . she's not sparing your lie this time. I have no idea about what is going on."

But Shawn didn't hear the rest. He sunk onto the bed again. His heart seemed to have stopped beating for a while and he felt dizziness clogging his brain. When he came back to his senses, his dad was shaking him be the shoulder. Shawn spotted his phone on the ground. It must have slipped out of his hand when Lassie . . . oh. God.

"Juliet," Shawn whispered. She knows. Oh, God, she know. It was his fault.

"Juliet's the second person? Wait, no. Shawn, it is **not** your fault," his dad said. Hm. Maybe he'd been musing out loud. Then he saw his dad pick up his phone and tell Lassie to 'Shut it'.

"Oh, God, Dad," Shawn gasped. "What did I do?"

" **S** **hawn**."

Shawn looked up at Henry, startled. "Take the case, son. I'll tell care of Juliet."

 _Tell_ _her_ _what?_ Shawn wondered. _Oh, right. She probably thinks I'm a serial killer._

"No, I can't let you off alone, and hello! I'm in custody . . . I think."

"You drop me off, but I am **not** getting on that damn bike. And you are not going after Yin and Yang alone. I'm calling Gus."

"No!" Shawn spun around to face Henry.

And Henry realized that his son's eyes were glinting. With anger. And desperation.

He put his hands on Shawn's shoulders and whispered, "Shawn, calm down."

Shawn laughed humorously, and looked down, closing his eyes. Henry could see two spots of red on his cheeks. Sweat shone on his forehead and under his eyes.

"You're not in this alone. I'm here, Gus is here, Juliet's here, your **mom's** here. Heck, even Lassiter's here. And Karen. And nothing is happening to us. It's only you we're concerned about, son," Henry said softly. Shawn opened his eyes and looked up, "Me?"

"You don't know this, but . . . Lassiter, Karen, Gus and I did have a―a meeting of sorts," Henry looked away.

"A meeting?" Shawn said, still in his soft voice. Henry did not like that voice. He wanted his son to be annoying . . . that was Shawn. This wasn't. This was someone who was scared, trapped, and lonely. Shawn was desperate . . . and that could end badly.

"We were worried about you. We still are. Your mom is too. Everytime we talk, we talk about the whole thing. When the Yin-Yang fiasco did not recur during the last year and a half, I was sure it was all over."

"I was too."

"Well, it's not. Now get up and get going. Bust these sons of a bitch. Kill them the moment you set your eyes on them."

Shawn looked up at Henry. An understanding passed between them. Shawn nodded.

"I'm going to call Gus. Drink water, Shawn. Calm down. Okay?" Henry started to walk away, but paused as Shawn called out to him. "I don't want Gus involved in this too."

"Shawn. He'll be with you. And I know you will never let anything happen to anyone you love. No matter how hard it is," Henry said. He ruffled his son's hair, and then turned to walk away before Shawn could stop him again.

And Shawn turned, sat down on his bed. His head felt hot. His dad had said that Juliet and Lassiter and Chief were all by him.

But would they seriously support a psychic believed to be a serial killer?


	5. Ch 5 : Partnership Is A Two-Way Thing

**A/N:** **Please** **review** **!** **And trust me, this is the most suspenseful chapter since chapter one . . . with a twist.**

 **DISCLAIMER:** **I do NOT own Psych or any of the characters. This story is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes. I make no profit out of it . . . except for the enhancement of my writing skills.**

 **Chapter 5: Partnership Is a Two-Way Thing**

Gus came by an hour later, and Henry climbed beside him in the passenger seat. Shawn narrowed his eyes at his dad and stood outside the window.

"Go sit in the back, Shawn," Henry said, fixing a stare on his son. Shawn sighed, climbing into the backseat.

"Hey, man," Gus greeted, looking at him at the rear-view mirror. Shawn smiled his carefree smile and said cheerily, "Better than a guy who got bashed on his head and then got beaten to the punch in riding shotgun by his dad."

"Yeah, you're fine," Gus sighed, rolling his eyes. "And if you aren't, playful Gus is ready to be launched any moment Yin an—"

"Thanks, Gus," Shawn cut him off. Flashing a smile. Henry stopped himself from turning around and looking at his son to make sure he was okay. But he wasn't. Shawn dipped his head after Gus's focus went back to the road. He stared at the goosebumps on his arms and then closed his eyes, breathing slowly.

He continued . . . he breathed. And breathed. And then he heard Henry, "Okay, boys! I'll be fine, Shawn, and so will Juliet. Be calm . . . and _Gus . . ._ "

Henry had whispered the last word . . . but Shawn heard it . . . and the message conveyed by it.

Henry turned in his seat, smiled reassuringly at Shawn, and climbed out, and Shawn climbed over the seat into the passenger seat.

"Will you stop doing that? This is a company car, you know?" Gus whined. But Shawn's eyes never left his father until he finally entered the hospital.

"It's all going to be fine, buddy," Gus said. Shawn nodded, and whispered, "What do you have on the murder case?"

"Nothing much," he replied. Shawn nodded.

"So, let's go," he said, pulling out a different letter . . . the very first one. Inside, directions were clearly given . . . a cabin. "You know that cabin near the station?"

"Yeah . . . why would they choose that place?" Gus frowned.

"I don't know. I guess I'm not quite the elaborate serial killer I've been assumed to be," Shawn sighed. Gus gave his shoulder a pat, and then revved the engine to life.

"You sure about this?" Gus asked nervously, flashing back to the time when an injection filled with a lethal concoction had hovered barely milimetres over his skin.

"I can't turn back now," Shawn said, eyes fixed on the cabin. "This place looks like the Everdeens' house from the Hunger Games."

"I know, right?" Gus said. "Come on, let's kill these psychos." He climbed out. Then, Shawn opened his door, and then he paused, "Wait a second, buddy."

"Wha . . .?" he paused. And then he saw Shawn bend over and grab a handgun from below his seat. His dad had left it for him.

Shawn gripped it, and then he stood up, turning off the safety.

"Let's go," he said, leading the way inside the cabin.

He paused right outside the door, and raised his fist to knock. Then thought better of it and pulled out his Swiss, jamming the blade between the door and the threshold, trying to pry open the lock.

"Gus, get behind that crate," he grunted with effort. Gus spun around to look at the crate in confusion.

"Why?" he whispered.

"Just do it!"

The very next moment, Gus was glad for the advice. As soon as he was hidden, he heard, "That's not going to open it, Shawn." Shawn spun around with an audible gasp.

"Yin," Shawn managed, recovering first. Gus was meanwhile, contemplating making a dash for it. No, he wasn't. Ultimately, Gus knew he could never bring himself to leave Shawn with a psychopath who had personally challenged him.

"Looks like you lived," Shawn said, taking a slow and steady breath. Gus could see Shawn fighting to keep down his rising panic, and he froze in his hiding place. No need to add anything more to Shawn's list of worries.

"And looks like you failed to keep up with my rules," Yin said in his gentlemanly, eerily calm voice.

Shawn chuckled, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes!" suddenly, Yin was very angry. He drew out a gun, aiming it at Shawn, who froze. "Yes, you do. And now you're going to pay for it."

"Whoa, calm down. Don't lose your whole crazed-but-well-mannered-psycho act!" Shawn spat out at him.

And Gus realized that this could become messy. From where he was hidden between the two, he could see that the safety of Yin's gun was off. He cocked his gun, "You'll be paying for this, Shawn."

And Gus jumped out from his hiding place, with courage he didn't know he had. A millisecond later, he saw the trigger being pulled and the bullet left the gun, straight at Shawn.

The last thought Gus had was of satisfaction . . . at least Shawn wasn't getting shot a second time.

The bullet never hit Shawn. But then, he never expected it to. The moment he saw Gus moving out from behind the crate he realized what the glint in Yin's eyes was about. It wasn't craziness. It was evil . . . malice . . . and genius.

Yin knew Gus was there.

And the bullet never hit Shawn. Shawn could see the bullet moving towards him . . . and then he lost the view of it as Gus's body came into his view . . . and a spot of red appeared in his lavender shirt . . . in the middle of his back.

The cry of 'No!' left Shawn's mouth too late, Gus was already on the ground, his eyes wide in alarm.

Shawn was glued to where he had been standing, until his legs thawed and turned to jelly at Gus's weak, " _Shawn?_ "

Shawn dropped to his knees beside his best friend. "Gus!" he cried. He clasped Gus's alarmingly cool hand and shouted, "No . . . no, stay with me! Open your eyes, Gus!"

He looked up in panic, only to realize Yin had disappeared. " _ **YIN**_!" he shouted. "Come out, you coward!"

"Shawn . . . I don't feel very good," Gus said softly, his eyes starting to close.

"NO, NO, NO! Gus, stay awake! I'm calling an ambulance. It'll all be fine!"

Shawn's hands trembled as he dialled for Lassiter, fully aware that he was in no state to give proper directions in a calm voice to the hospital.

"Spencer!" Lassiter barked. Shawn cried, "Gus. He's been shot. Lassiter, there's so much blood . . ."

"What? What the heck are you talking . . . _Henry_? Oh, crap! Spencer, where are you? Tell me calmly . . . I'm still at the hospital . . . I'll get an ambulance right away."

Shawn managed to ramble off the directions, shaking from head to toe, clasping Gus's hand as though it would keep him from closing his eyes. Gus tried to clutch Shawn's hand, but was too weak. Shawn dropped his phone when he was done, stammering as he reassured Gus . . . promising that he would kill Yin. Saying that he **should have** killed Yin the moment he saw him. He should have. This was his fault.

This was entirely his fault.

It was a while until he noticed that Gus was breathing normally, starting to nod and squeeze Shawn's hand in response. He started to relax even further when he heard the siren of the ambulance.

But watching the blood flow out of his best friend's chest, he could barely feel Lassiter prying open his fingers and pulling him away from Gus, and into his Crown Vic. His eyes never left Gus's form as he grunted in pain while being lifted onto the stretcher, until he was safely inside the ambulance, Henry in tow. Shaking, Shawn sat down, trying to breathe normally. He was jerked back to reality as Juliet took his hand in her own cool one, whispering that everything would be fine, asking him to drink water. But Shawn shook his head, and rested it on his girlfriend's shoulder.

He wasn't sure of whether he had put it there, or if Juliet had. But he closed his eyes, the shock finally starting to get replaced by anger.

He breathed calmly . . . and closed his eyes, scared of someone seeing the mad glint in then. He was going to kill Yin. And Yang. And whoever else was involved. Maybe Allison Cowley too.

Shawn couldn't rest. He paced in the waiting room right outside the ER. His hands were in fists, because when he opened the fists, his fingers started trembling. His brain raced as he tried to figure out a way to get to Yin-Yang and Allison. But all he came up with was a big white blank. On the chief's insistence, he had taken some water after it was pointed out that his face was red. His dad had filled out forms and called Gus's parents and Joy. Bill and Winnie Guster had come, and now they were seated across the hall. Mrs. Guster's face was drawn and pale . . . and Mr. Guster was outside, talking to Joy. It had been four hours since they had taken Gus for surgery.

Shawn wanted to just rush out of there that very moment to hunt down Gus. But he couldn't concentrate till he was assured that Gus would be fine.

"Mr. Spen— Shawn. Are you absolutely certain it was Yin? You **saw** him?" Karen Vick questioned.

"Yes, Chief. I **saw** him. He shot Gus!" Shawn said, wincing when 'shot' left his mouth.

Karen put a hand on her forehead . . . shaking her head, "Crap."

"I'm willing to bet that was his plan all along. He _knew_ Gus was behind that crate. He planned it all out! He . . . I . . ." Shawn trailed off, unable to explain his utter disgust and anger at Yin's low blow.

"Gus was hiding?" Juliet asked with a frown.

"Yeah . . . he jumped out," Shawn muttered, suddenly feeling tired.

"Why'd he do that?" Lassiter demanded with a frown.

Shawn opened his mouth to answer, but no sound came out. He looked at the head detective helplessly . . . wishing he could rewind time. He could've pushed Gus away, instead of standing there like an idiot. He could've never brought Gus in the first place. He could answer Lassiter instead of standing there like an idiot with his mouth open.

Karen nodded understandingly and said, "Lassiter, what are the reports from the crime scene?"

"We found footprints," Carlton Lassiter hung his head, cringing at how pathetic that was.

"Well, knowing Yin over the years, we wouldn't have found that either. Shawn must've caught him off guard," Karen said. Turning to the younger Spencer, she complimented, "Good work, Mr. Spencer."

"It was good, but not good enough," Shawn answered darkly. "Lassie, what shoe was he wearing?"

"Size ten, business shoes," Lassiter replied instantly.

"I guess it's safe to assume that that wasn't his actual shoe size anyway, he always does that," Henry sighed. But Shawn put a finger to his head, "No . . . wait."

He flashed back to when yin had started walking around a bit. He was dragging his foot. Almost as if . . .

"He has a leg injury!" Shawn claimed. "Possibly a permanent one!"

"Which means he wouldn't wear any shoe size except for his own!" Juliet realized, jumping up from her seat.

"Perfect. Lassiter, ask McNabb to enter this into our database. And Shawn . . . I can't believe I didn't think of this earlier! Sit down with the sketch artist and give her a description of Yin, okay?"

Shawn rubbed his tired eyes and nodded. Then he stayed right where he was. Lassiter cleared his throat, "Spencer, you can't give the sketch here. Why don't you go outside for a while?"

Shawn glared at Lassiter, "I am not―"

"If the doctor has anything to say, you'll be the first person to know. Now, go," Henry promised. Shawn stopped glaring, sighed and followed Juliet outside. They both sat down together just outside the waiting room.

As they sat down on the seats along the wall, Juliet took Shawn's right hand with her left and said, "It'll be fine, sweetheart. Gus **will** be fine."

Shawn looked deeply into her eyes, and taking in the fact that Juliet herself believed this.

"And I looked at the place where the wound was," she continued, never breaking his gaze. "I'm pretty sure that it's just a flesh wound."

She was telling the truth. It wasn't as good as a doctor's word, but she was a cop. A trained cop. Shawn nodded, breaking the gaze and resting his head on her shoulder. She put up her palm against his cheek, the stubble grazing her skin.

They stayed that way till Juliet could make out Buzz coming down the hallway, sketch artist in tow.

"Hey, guys," Buzz flashed then a small smile, taking a seat across the hallway. The sketch artist settled down next to Shawn. Juliet and Buzz exchanged a look of wonder as they watched Shawn shoot absolutely accurate details and the sketch artist draw them with perfect precision, almost as though even she was fuelled with anger.

 _Which she probably was,_ Juliet realized. The sketch artist had lost her husband to a bomb blast orchestrated by Yin-Yang.

The sketch was done in no time, and Juliet peeked over Shawn's shoulder at it, realizing with a chill that the picture looked accurate enough to be Yin himself staring out at them. She had seen Yin two years back . . . while she cut open the zip ties around Shawn's wrist . . .

Smiling a bit at Shawn and Juliet, she left, Buzz in tow.

Shawn stood up to go back to the waiting room, only to stop when he felt Juliet's hand on his arm. He turned to look at her. And she stood up, clearing her throat.

"I'm sorry," she said, her voice clear and unwavering.

"For what?" Shawn asked with a slight frown.

Sighing, Juliet seized his hand, bringing it up to her lips and kissing it. "For thinking that you were a serial killer. I made the connection with the case. Honestly, I have no idea about what I was thinking."

"Yeah, well, it's okay. You did what you should have. And see, we still don't have any evidence proving that I'm innocent."

Juliet frowned, "No. You're not the lead suspect anymore. Yin must've planted―"

"Yin wasn't my attacker that day," Shawn said.

"Yeah, well," Juliet said after a pause. "He could've hired someone to do it. Or maybe forced someone. The attacker took a piece of your shirt . . . obviously had your DNA because on account of just having fought you . . . and he planted it on the murder victim after Yin killed him."

"That sounds a bit far-fetched, don't you think?" Shawn said with a humourless laugh. He turned, and Juliet pulled him back, "Hey! Stop beating yourself up. Yin did this. Yin hurt Gus. Yin killed the guy. Yin attacked you. He trapped you. That's what he did the last three times, Shawn."

Shawn closed his eyes, letting out a shaky breath. And Juliet leaned her forehead against his. _Very-close talking_ , she thought with a smile.

"But we're all with you. This time, we're going to kill the son of a bitch once and for all," Juliet said, adopting a softer tone, still in the very-close-talking position. Shawn smiled slowly, inching forward so that their lips just about touched at the smallest movement.

"I know. And you're right," Shawn said, goosebumps on their arms as they felt each other's lips touching their own. "Yin is going to hell this time. Literally and figuratively."

"And this time, I'm openly helping you with any mad plans you have, no matter what. Let's do this," she said, a smile making her own lips stretch. She could taste the bitter coffee on Shawn's lips when she kissed him, running her hand across his back and shoulder with the other hand caressing the side of his neck, sighing with pleasure at the feeling of his stubble on her skin.

"Gus jumped out . . . he took the bullet for me," Shawn whispered as they broke away.

"I know," Juliet said, caressing his cheek.

Shawn looked at her with confusion. "You do?"

"I figured it out. and it wasn't your fault, Shawn. After all, partnership is a two-way thing."


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** **Hey guys, here we are, chapter 6! This is more of an angsty chapter, any you can probably see that I've raised the rating of this story to T. And changed the category to Suspense and Angst. But be forewarned that that is not all . . . I've got a hell lot of Angst and friendship and romance here too.**

 **Please don't kill me for not updating in like . . . a month almost. I've stayed up for nights altogether studying, and this is the first Saturday I didn't feel like passing out by seven in the evening.**

 **I'm honestly not sure about how this story is gonna turn out, but you can bet that the plot's all figured out. And finally, yay! Some remedy for poor Shawn in this chap! Also, CORRECTION: the emotional scene between Shules in the last chapter? Remember? Yeah, apparently, Juliet started using both of her hands, when she had a fracture earlier that day! :(**

 **Error!**

 **So, yeah, her right arm is still fractured; and please forgive the silly grammar mistakes I've been making.**

 **Sorry for the long A/N, and remember to REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW!**

 **Chapter 6: Badass Shawn Makes an Appearance, And Woody Saves The Day!**

' **Spencer**! Damn it!' Lassiter growled, walking in on his cuddling partner and her boyfriend, and then turning around one-eighty degrees.

'Who-ho-hoa!' Shawn coughed awkwardly, clearing his throat as he broke away from Juliet. 'Lassie! How awfully Spencer-Hastings's-older-sister-from-Pretty-Little-Liars of you to . . . uh, sneak up on us like that!'

'Melissa,' Juliet chipped, blushing red with laughter **and** embarrassment.

'Wha-what are you talking about?' Shawn mumbled, tearing his eyes away from Lassiter.

'Spencer Hastings's older sister in Pretty Little Liars was Melissa Hastings,' Juliet repeated, suddenly wondering why her boyfriend even knew about that show. That seemed rather unsettling.

Carlton Lassiter scrunched up his face in confusion and disgust, questioning his partner, 'Why would you know that? It's a teen chick flick!'

Juliet's eyes widened, and Shawn pouted to stifle his glee, glancing from Jules to Lassie.

'Did you just say "chick-flick" in front of my girlfriend?' Shawn managed, a glint of sheer joy at seeing Lassie cornered in his eyes. Lassiter looked at the psychic and snapped, 'Yes. Yes, I did.'

Juliet shook her head, and then sighed, 'Carlton, any news on Gus?'

'Yes . . . the doctor just talked to Mrs. Guster about him . . . he's stable. He didn't lose a lot of blood, thanks to Spencer's efforts to staunch the flow of blood . . . and by some miracle; the bullet did not hit anything vital. But he's still in surgery,' Lassiter said, glancing nervously at Shawn's rapidly paling face. 'I'm sorry, O'Hara, but . . . Spencer, are you alright?'

Juliet whirred around to realize that her boyfriend **was** indeed looking sicker every moment.

'Shawn?' she asked tentatively.

'Holy crap!' Shawn said, finally letting his gaze meet Juliet's. Juliet realized that Shawn was "getting" something. 'Crap.'

'What?' she asked cautiously. Lassiter was quiet too, now; waiting. He was almost positive that Spencer was "sensing" something. But when Shawn did nothing except keep his eyes locked on Juliet's, Lassiter barked, 'Spencer, what the hell is it?'

Shawn looked up at him, an indescribable emotion glazing in his eyes as he swallowed and said, 'Yang's alive too.'

Juliet gasped and Lassiter's jaw went slack.

'And Yin has forgiven her,' Shawn finished.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

'Mr. Spencer, that is highly unlikely. I mean, you and Mr. Guster spread Yang's ashes yourself . . . as a matter of fact, I need to have a very serious talk to you about the **location** of that particular deed,' Chief Vick tilted her head as she confronted Shawn, who had just finished telling about Yang and Yin to everyone in the waiting room.

'You don't think that was the first thing your detectives would've asked, Karen?' Henry demanded, rubbing his bald head. 'Whoa, wait. **You** spread **Yang's** ashes?'

'That is irrelevant,' Shawn pointed out, realizing that the situation was going in a direction which may prove very unbeneficial for Shawn in the immediate future.

'Back on **point** ,' Juliet cut in, 'If Shawn's suspicion is right, which seems likelier every second . . . we have a major problem. Because we all know that the first time Shawn was targeted, it was by Yin-Yang together, and it was the worst.'

'I wouldn't necessarily say that,' Shawn interjected with a shrug.

'Huh,' Chief said, folding her arms. 'Why's that?'

'Personally, you should not be ranking it anyway!' Henry interrupted. 'And Shawn, Juliet's right. She took your mom the first time and strapped her with a bomb . . . and your mom is very vigilant, son.'

'Yeah, well, Yin took Jules the other time and made her dangle off the edge of a clock tower . . . and need I remind you that she is a **cop** ,' Shawn countered.

'Okay,' Juliet placed a hand on her boyfriend's shoulder, wincing as the quick movement jerked her shoulders, in the process jostling her right arm from its dormant position. Lassiter and the chief caught this but chose to wisely ignore it as the younger detective locked her eyes with them briefly.

'And let's not forget . . . the third time, Yin took you and Guster and almost made you see your best friend die in front of you,' Lassiter said. All of them except Shawn were oblivious to the sound of the door of Gus's hospital room opening then shutting right behind him. Shawn froze.

Henry raised his eyebrows at the sudden change of mood and spun around, coming face to face with a very shocked-looking Winnie Guster.

'Winnie,' Henry gasped. 'You're back! How's Gus?'

'He's fine . . . and awake. Sorry, detective, did you just say that this psychopath went after my son once earlier?' Mrs. Guster demanded.

'Um, wow! Mrs. G!' Shawn managed, and then continued as her cold gaze locked on Shawn. If she hadn't been accusing Shawn for her son's condition earlier, she was now.

'Well, Mrs. Guster, yes. As a matter of fact, Yin has targeted Mr. Spencer . . . erm, the younger one . . . before. He has personally called out Shawn, and Shawn has been the only one who has managed to keep this sicko on the edge for this long. And, well, during what we thought was a grand finale, he did capture both Mr. Guster and him. But they got out unscathed,' Karen said, hoping to shed some light on Shawn's genius, well aware of the fact that the Gusters had been quiet sceptical of Shawn's skills and influence on their son.

But what she didn't realize was that that was not all that made the Gusters oppose Shawn Spencer. She realized it soon enough.

Henry sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and Juliet looked between Shawn and Gus's mom. Lassiter, realizing the situation at the same time as the chief, took a deep breath.

'Shawn, can I talk to you for a second, dear? **Alone.** ' She emphasized, her expression unreadable as she glanced around at the others once.

'Mrs. G, let me just explain about that part,' Shawn said cautiously.

'You can do that alone with me,' Winnie said, somewhat sharply. Shawn grimaced a bit as he followed the mother of his best friend out, as she led him outside where her husband was filling out forms.

oooooooooooooooooooo

'Explain,' Mrs. G commanded as she turned around to face Shawn. Shawn opened his mouth to answer and froze as the Gusters' gaze grew colder by the minute.

'Well?' Mr. Guster asked expectantly, tapping the pen in his hand on the table.

'Um . . .' Shawn started, 'Well, you see . . . this Yin-Yang killer―' he was abruptly cut off by Mrs. Guster, ' **Serial** killer.'

Shawn gritted his teeth and nodded, 'Yeah, um, **serial** killer sort of, uh . . . called me out four years back.'

'Wait,' Mr. Guster said with a frown, the anger clouding his judgement evaporating a bit. 'Why was a serial killer targeting you?'

'Because, that's what they do. These serial killers call out someone particular and ask them to solve riddles and . . . save the lives of their victims.'

'Did you ever happen to fail . . . you know, sometime other than when you got the lives of people who care about you in danger?' Mrs. G demanded, raising an eyebrow.

'You know what?' Shawn said with a humourless smile, 'I did. It was another police consultant . . . a profiler who had been chasing Yang for years before Yin killed him.'

'I'm pretty sure all the families of the **random** victims are still pretty grateful to you,' she spat.

Mr. Guster blinked, and said gently, 'Winnie . . . . .'

Meanwhile Shawn stood, speechless and a bit flabbergasted.

'Oh, no, please continue,' Mrs. G said, directing her command at Shawn. Shawn frowned, his mouth still parted a bit. Then he cleared his throat and continued explaining.

oooooooooooooooooooooo

He drove soundlessly, letting his subconscious take him where it was. He made wrong turns, overtook cars, broke the speed limit and ran traffic lights. The harsh words by the Gusters blaming him for endangering Gus's life echoed in his blank head. And he let them.

Then he reached where he had to. Letting the echoes grow louder by the second, he made his way past the yellow crime scene tape. He was vaguely aware of McNabb greeting him, 'Hi, Shawn! What brings you here?'

But he made to attempt to greet him back and stalked on inside the now wide-ajar door of the old cabin. **He needed proof.** That was the only thought in his mind. He had to make sure everyone understood that he wasn't lying: Yin and Yang were back.

And for that, he had to present Yang's creativity before them. He made his way over to the haphazardly arranged stacks of hay and crossed over one, searching along it.

If this was Yin-Yang's crime scene, they must've left a Yin-Yang symbol somewhere. **But where?** his mind asked, even though he felt that he already knew the answer.

He scanned the musty, dark cabin, scanning each stack of hay for the symbol.

And then it clicked into place **.**

ooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Karen Vick sighed as her phone vibrated against her thigh, turning away from where a startled-looking Winnie Guster sat with her arms in her lap.

'Vick,' she answered, and was greeted by Buzz McNabb's cheery voice, 'Hello, Chief! It's Buzz.'

'Clearly,' she said, her tone harsher than intended. 'What is it, Officer?'

'Um, I'm not sure that this is . . . um, **appropriate** at the moment,' McNabb stuttered.

'McNabb,' Karen sighed. 'Just spit it out . . . unless you want wedding tips again . . .'

'No! No, no, no, Chief. It's about the case . . . you know . . .'

'Did you manage to get another suspect?' Vick demanded, immediately snapping to full-on badass-chief-of-police mode.

'Not exactly . . . uh, this is kind of protocol . . . and I just wanted to let you know Shawn turned up at the supposed-Yin crime scene. I mean, I know probably none of us think he's the lead suspect anymore―'

The rest was drowned out as Karen snapped shut her phone and spun around on her heels and announced to the little audience gathered there, 'Shawn's where Gus was shot.'

Juliet's head shot up from where she had been resting it on her uninjured arm and she demanded, 'When did he reach there?'

'Buzz just informed me. Lassiter and Mr. Guster, you accompany me to the crime scene . . . Bill, you can fill us in on what exactly you all said to Shawn on the way,' Karen ordered.

'Chief―' Juliet started.

'I'm sorry, O'Hara, but you have to stay here, in case Gus wakes up. Henry, it goes without saying, that obviously Shawn is in an unhealthy state of mind, and the last thing he needs is you berating him in front of the whole damn police department, just like you have been doing since the last few years,' the Chief commanded.

And then, without waiting for any reaction from her stunned audience, she marched out of the waiting room, her head detective and Bill Guster in tow, to stop her psychic from doing something he may regret.

oooooooooooooooooooooo

Shawn was innocent; she knew it in her heart.

Shawn was actually a cold-blooded murderer, who had been acting all this time. Besides, lying was his forte; there was more than enough proof of that. And now he'd shot Gus, his "best friend" (although this act might prove the feeling to be one-sided) because Gus somehow stumbled across the truth about Shawn's identity. Obviously, everyone who knew Shawn Spencer knew what a great shot he was.

. . . . . yeah, that was her brain. And her instincts. And her logic. And her common sense. The list probably went on, but Juliet O'Hara hadn't given that much thought.

Her head was pounding. She leaned against the banister of the balcony near the waiting rooms and allowed the cool wind to blow her hair away from her face. Then her mind flashed back to when they'd met him at the crime scene, desperately trying to help Gus in any damn way possible . . . trying to staunch the continuous flow of blood, trying to call out to his best friend to rouse him . . . and that wild, absolutely terrified look in his hazel eyes . . .

You can't fake that kind of stuff. Faking about being psychic is a different thing; millions of people do it across the world. And her boyfriend was this smart genius who had managed to fool some police officers . . . it was Santa Barbara, not D.C.

Faking about those emotions, those feelings . . . that was a whole different thing.

'Family of Burton Guster?' she heard faintly from inside the waiting room.

Juliet dipped her head and sighed, and then it registered: **Gus**! She spun around and hurried inside just as the doctor started speaking.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooo

'Look, in our defense, our son was the one who got shot, not Shawn. We were under a lot of stress, okay? And Winnie just, you know, vented back there. And you saw her. I mean, she didn't look very calm and happy about what she said, did she?' Mr. Guster defended.

Karen Vick opened her mouth to answer, but Lassiter beat her to the punch, 'Doesn't matter what you mental constitution was . . . I worked with Spencer every damn time that sicko went after him, and **they** **went** **after** Shawn – **not** Gus. Can you even imagine what his condition must've been?'

For a few seconds, the Chief was silent . . . stunned to see Lassiter defend Shawn. And then she added silently, 'And what his condition **is**.'

'Look, I'm sorry. I really am. Now we're going to get Shawn, take him back to the hospital, Burton's probably been moved to the ICU now, and on the way, let's get a pineapple smoothie,' Bill said with the ashen look still on his face.

'No pineapples in my car!' Karen snapped, making a sharp right past the SBPD station. Lassiter and Bill jumped, both from the jostling of the car as well as her sharp tone. 'Um . . . my husband is allergic to pineapples. Besides, we need to get to Shawn first.'

'Yes ma'am,' Lassiter kind-of squeaked. **Kind** **of**. Because Carlton Lassiter does not squeak.

'We're here,' Karen said, her gaze fixed on the shady cabin up front. Parking her car near the other squad cars, she ordered Bill Guster to stay in the car, and sent Lassiter inside the cabin to look for Shawn.

Then she followed the yellow tape to where Buzz McNabb was standing, and demanded, 'McNabb, how long has it been since Shawn came here?'

'A good twenty minutes, ma'am,' he responded immediately.

'Where did he go?'

'I didn't notice.'

'You DIDN'T NOTICE?' Chief demanded sharply. 'What kind of a cop are you?!'

McNabb flinched, 'Um . . . I was running the ballistics on the footprints . . .? Yeah, I'm gonna stop talking. Sorry, Chief.'

'Never mind. Just carry on with your work; I'll look around the back.'

'Yes, ma'am.'

'And McNabb?'

'Yes, Chief?'

'If you happen to **notice** anything, you'd better let me know!'

'Yes, Chief.'

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Carlton Lassiter never imagined there that would be a day when he would see Spencer take something seriously. And now that this "dream" had come true, he realized that that idiot was better off doing idiocy, because somehow, 'Serious Spencer' was more idiotic than usual.

 _How idiotic are we talking?_ you may ask, especially if you're as dim-witted as McNabb. The answer is that Spencer can be idiotic to the level that he puts himself back on as the lead suspect in a murder investigation.

 _How so?_ McNabb and other numbskulls may ask.

On rounding a corner with his hand on his gun, Lassiter snapped shut his mouth, which he had just opened to call out to Spencer. He was sure he had heard a sound.

There it was, again.

And it sounded like . . .

'Spencer!' Lassiter barked in horror. Shawn Spencer's figure froze, his back facing the detective.

Even from the distance, Lassiter could make out Shawn's back heaving as he panted, and could make out the red, flushed skin under his stubble. In fact, if he might add, Carlton always thought that the stubble was the only proof that Shawn Spencer wasn't actually a child.

'What the hell do you think you are doing?!' Lassiter shouted again.

'Lassie, hey!' Shawn chuckled. But even that sounded strained. 'I'd be damned. I was just, um . . . doing some stress management. Funny you should come by!'

'This is a crime scene, and you just happen to be destroying what could have been . . . food for ranch animals. Is that what you call stress management?' Lassiter wondered, squinting as he made out what Shawn had just been attacking viciously with a steel rod.

A haystack. Sweet Lady Justice, that was a haystack!

'Detective!' Chief's voice rang in the dark cabin. 'Did you find him?'

'Yes,' Lassiter answered just as the chief joined them. 'He assaulted a haystack.'

Karen Vick sighed, 'Detective, I don't have time for this nonsense. Shawn! Everyone was worried sick about you. You cannot just up and disappear, am I absolutely clear?'

'Crystal, Karen!' Shawn spun around with a goofy grin on his face, the composure gained back. Then he saw the Chief's glare and added, ' . . . Vick . . . Chief . . .'

'I'll let that slide, mainly because you have worse consequences to . . . what is that?' Chief's eyes focused on the destroyed stack behind Shawn.

'Um . . . a haystack?' Shawn replied, fidgeting. 'Right Lassie? It's a haystack. Tell the chief it's a haystack.'

'It looks like a haystack to me, Chief,' Lassiter agreed. 'Completely assaulted, but a haystack nonetheless.'

Karen Vick, however, was not to be deceived easily. She stalked over to where Shawn was and surveyed the haystack. Then she turned to Shawn with a look in her eyes which Lassiter couldn't describe.

He would've been able to the next second, though, after the chief posed her question, 'Is that a Yin-Yang symbol, Mr. Spencer?'

oooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Shawn slammed the iron rod hard into the haystack, which had been systematically arranged to form a Yin-Yang symbol, with a short and slightly stifled cry of frustration.

God, that felt good.

So he slammed down the rod again.

 _ **Thwack**_ _._ Yang was alive, and had probably been in cahoots with Yin since day one, challenge one.

 _ **Thwack**_ _._ And he'd believed her to be genuine. God knows whose ashes he had spread in the chief doctor's car.

 _ **Thwack**_ _._ And this time round, Yin-Yang had got to him. They were all up in his head, and the clues hadn't even started coming. Or maybe . . .

 _ **Thwack**_ _._ Maybe, the game was different this time around. This time it was Yin's game, and Yang's challenges. And Yin never had a repeat performance. He wouldn't risk victimizing both Shawn and Gus again.

 _ **Thwack**_ _._ It was Yang. She knew how to get to Shawn. And this time, they had raised the stakes very high. They'd shot Gus, and maybe killed him.

 _ **Thwack. Thwack, thwack. Crack**_ _!_

And it would be undeniably, undoubtably Shawn's fault.

 _ **Thwack**_ _._ This is the part where Gus would tell him, 'Shawn, "undoubtably" isn't a word. Do you mean "undoubtedly"?'

'I've heard it both ways,' Shawn said out loud with a smirk.

The next _**thwack**_ _!_ brought him back to reality. Gus wasn't going to correct him. Maybe never again.

'Spencer!'

Shawn jumped, gasping. Then he calmed down a bit, catching his breath. What did Lassie just ask him?

Oh, right. He'd asked what the hell Shawn was doing. It looked pretty clear, he was destroying a haystack. This was sad.

'Lassie!' Shawn greeted. Then he grimaced. That sounded forced. Crap.

Was that the chief? What the f. . . . .?

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Gus was okay. A bit of trauma. Maybe some disorientation. His sternum was hit, and as soon as the bone would heal, he'd be as good as new. He just needed to wear a brace for a few weeks. Nothing to worry about.

That's what the doctor told them.

And the tension in the room seemed to dissipate. Gus's mom cried out in relief and gave Juliet a hug, who froze at the unexpected gesture. All the while during Shawn's absence, a cold war seemed to have been taking place between the two women. Juliet was Shawn's girlfriend. That was enough reason for Winnie Guster to doubt Detective O'Hara's judgment. Meanwhile the added worry Winnie had presented to Shawn by blaming him for Gus's condition had made Juliet indignant. Now Juliet's phone played a lively, soft tune, and she pulled it out of her back pocket. it was totally Shawn's fault that Juliet had become habituated with keeping her cell in her back pocket.

'Hello?' Juliet answered her cell, momentarily forgetting her professional 'O'Hara!'

'Juliet! It's you!' came the greeting from the other side.

Juliet frowned, pulling away from the phone and looking at the caller ID. Then she pinched the bridge of her nose and answered, 'Woody, you called my cell. Of course it's me.'

Woody Strode carried on cheerily, 'Huh, I was kinda hoping it'd be Shawn. I mean, personally, couples usually answer each other's phones. In fact, Ursula and I went a step further and used each other's underwear . . . well, Ursula used mine―'

'WOODY!' Juliet cried, absolutely horrified. Henry jumped in his place, his gaze locking on Juliet.

'Sorry, sorry, TTL!' Woody apologized.

'TTL?' Juliet asked.

'Yeah, Tell That Later!'

'Woody!' the Junior Detective groaned.

'Anyway, I have some great news, if you haven't heard already.'

'What?'

'Our dead body from Shawn's case had this strange fluid in one area of the arm, a sedative apparently, which is available in only one lab in the whole of Santa Barbara,' the coroner announced.

'Oh My God!' Juliet almost laughed out from joy, jumping to her feet. 'Are you sure?'

'Absolutely certain. As certain as I am that my wife slept with the guy who runs the Jamba Juice stall downtown.'

'Oh, God! That is great news. Thanks, Woody.'

'Anytime. Now, as for Ursula and I,' but Juliet knew this was where her connection would start going awry. She clapped onto the speaker and spoke in a robotic voice, 'Can't heee-eeeree. Taa-aaalk—late-errr!'

And she slammed shut her phone. Henry and the Gusters were looking at her as though she had just dropped down from the moon.

'We got a lead which doesn't lead to Shawn!' she announced, almost bounding with joy.

Henry's face went slack for a moment, and then brightened visibly. On the outside, though, he just said, 'About time someone started believing my son isn't a cold-blooded serial killer.'

Juliet suppressed a knowing smile and simply shrugged. 'I'll call Lassie and tell him. Well get on the case pronto.'

Then she frowned at Henry's grimace.

'What?' she asked, raising an eyebrow.

'Shawn's rubbing off on you. You just called Lassiter "Lassie".'

'I did?' Juliet gasped. Then she grinned, 'Well, it isn't exactly a sin. Thank God he's not around, though.'

'Don't thank God just yet, Juliet. We've got a long road to cover,' Henry Spencer sighed.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

 **Ooooh! Long one. But you deserve it for being so damn patient. Love you guys, and the lovely reviews. Keep 'em coming!**

 **Love, IGBE.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Yeah, just gonna skip over the A/N thing this time!**

 **Ch 7: Trouble in a Shulesy Paradise.**

'Ugh!' Gus gagged at the blueberry flavoured Jell-O. 'Don't they have something like pineapple or strawberry?'

'No, they do not,' Henry sighed. 'Gus, just gulp down the whole thing . . . it's Jell-O.'

Gus winced and put the spoon filled with Jell-O to his mouth again, making a slight whimpering noise.

'Suck it,' Lassie sang softly.

Gus glowered at him. ' **You** suck it. How's Shawn?'

'He's still in the interrogation room,' Henry sighed again.

'You know I can testify against Yin. I can't believe you guys would think that Shawn was the guy who shot me,' Gus mumbled, having simmered down about the matter since he had woken up and Juliet had told him about Shawn's little "stress management". Then she had promptly guilt tripped Lassie into staying with Gus while she went to interrogate Shawn.

Gus sighed. At this point, he wasn't sure which would be worse, Juliet putting emotional stress on Shawn or Lassiter hurling little insults at him, possibly both would make him snap.

'Hey, Gussie!' his mom stepped into the room, a heavy-looking bag in her arm. 'I brought some clothes, if they let you change, some books and DVDs, and a few comics. How are you feeling?'

'I'd feel better if Shawn was here with me and not under interrogation for allegedly shooting me,' Gus grumbled. Even though he was quite high on painkillers, he saw the change of expression in his mother's eyes and the way Lassiter squirmed. They were keeping something from him.

He sighed again. Obviously, they were probably keeping stuff which would be too hard to sugar coat . . . like maybe he had a worse injury. Or cancer. Oh, God. No, no, he couldn't have cancer!

'Oh My Gosh,' he cried, his voice cracking. Then he sobbed out, 'I have cancer, don't I?'

'Gus,' Henry started.

'Oh, my God! That's why Shawn isn't here, right? He's off gaining composure!' Gus sobbed.

'No, Gus,' his mom started.

'We've been together for as long as we have existed! We took our first poops together!' Gus wailed.

'Guster!' Lassiter barked, his face screwing up in disgust. 'You don't have cancer. We're not keeping anything from you! Except for the fact that you're acting like an absolute lunatic! Henry, will you please hit the morphine button?'

Henry did so. 'Now, go to sleep, Gus. And when you wake up, Shawn will be here.'

'He'd better be,' Gus muttered as the morphine took over.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

'I don't see how sending you in here will change what happened, which I reported to you guys with complete accuracy on the way,' Shawn sighed, pulling up his throbbing head from where he has buried it in his hands.

'Shawn, I still need to interrogate you about your whereabouts during the murder of that man,' Jules came over and took the seat opposite to him. Then she took his hands in his, 'I asked the chief and others for privacy. Just you and me here, so you can tell me anything.'

Shawn tried to control the tremble in his hands as he looked up at her directly in her eyes. He took a deep breath and said, 'I killed that man.'

oooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Karen Vick froze. At the other end of the line, she could hear O'Hara draw a breath. There was silence on the other end of the line.

Okay, so, she may or may not have placed a bug in the interrogation room after O'Hara had practically begged to interrogate Shawn first and then had followed up with the request to have no one in the viewing box at all.

Shaking from what she had just heard, Shawn's voice deep and slightly hoarse as he said "I killed that man," she sank into her chair. McNabb, looked up at her with the troubled expression on his face which had become perpetual ever since the whole fiasco had started.

'McNabb, let's get to the interrogation room. **Now**.' And she pulled out the wire, holstering her gun.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooo

'Shawn,' Juliet whispered. 'No.'

'Why is it so hard for you to believe? You were the one, who made the connection,' he spat, pulling away his hands from her, which she had been clutching in shock. Shawn's face was slightly red, his jaw line prominent, and she could see the way the pulse in his temple throbbed.

'Congrats, Detective!' he gave a humourless laugh, sitting back and clapping his hands slowly. 'You solved a case all on your own. It's almost as if you're psychic! You were right with the first suspect!'

'Shawn. Stop it,' Juliet said coldly, her own heart rate speeding.

'No! Why should I?' he said, his voice louder this time. 'Isn't that what you wanted to hear? You want to close this case, detective! Don't you want some damn evidence? Here it is! You have absolutely no leads, so obviously you're not going to stop doubting me until I say what you want me to say.'

Juliet sighed in relief. Okay, it's fine, her boyfriend wasn't a killer. He wasn't a killer.

'Sweetheart, calm down,' Juliet whispered. 'This is the interrogation room.'

Shawn held her gaze for a while before he closed his eyes and sighed, 'Sorry. Shouldn't have shouted at you.'

'Its fine,' she smiled. Then she reached out and caressed his heavily-stubbled cheek. He leaned into her touch briefly before drawing a deep breath and sitting up straight, 'How's Gus?'

'He's awake and good, and he was asking for you,' Juliet responded.

Shawn nodded, his gaze flitting across the room. Then he cleared his throat and asked, 'And what did the Doc say?'

'It's nothing major . . . the bullet damaged his sternum, and that might take a while to heal . . . but knowing Gus, he'd probably welcome a few weeks of rest.'

'Yeah, he kind of loves it whenever Mrs. Pickles has complex diseases like . . . cancer, flatulence, and Braxton-Hicks.'

'Okay . . . I fairly well remember Mrs. Pickles . . . isn't she Gus's imaginary cat?'

'Yes, she is. But the walls have ears, Jules. Let's be discreet, because Gus is gonna breath fire through his nostrils if he realizes you gave away his secret.'

Juliet frowned, a small smile tugged at the corner of her lips. 'You know what, this time, you're kinda right . . . the walls do have ears. As for the diseases, you do realize you just said that Gus's cat was having cell damage, excess gas and false contractions?'

'Huh. No wonder Gus keeps trying to get young customers to get those Burton's Chicks medicine.'

Juliet rolled her eyes and chuckled. Then she traced her thumb across his cheekbone and asked, 'I'm the only one around. Chief's not in the viewing room, so if you're having trouble putting stuff together, give me what you observed, we can work it out together.'

'Thank the dear Lord she isn't,' Shawn smirked suggestively. 'Would she have been happy to see you manipulating me to give answers?'

'Manipulating how?' Juliet asked, letting the grin cover her face, and leaning closer to him, inhaling the Axe scent. That was such a grown-up scent for a child-like guy. It was intoxicating, kinda made her want to rip of his shirt and run her palm across his smooth and slightly muscled chest . . . his soft-skinned back . . . his muscled shoulders, which were hidden under those sleeves . . . and kiss every damn part of that stubble-covered jaw line . . . and—

'Uh, Jules?' Shawn said, feeling shifting to prevent their noses from bumping together.

'Hm?' Juliet snapped out of her daydream and shifted a centimetre or two away. Shawn was searching her eyes, and she held his gaze, letting him observe like he did, work that magic with his brain. He wasn't the ideal, rich, tax-paying boyfriend, but he was damn intriguing. Now that she knew his little secret, Juliet loved watching him work with his distinguished skill set. It seemed like a superhero comic, except that Shawn didn't wear his underwear on top of his clothes _***shudder*.**_

She was derailed from her train of thoughts by the huge, goofy smirk that spread across Shawn's face.

'I turned you on!' he said gleefully.

'Shawn, I am trying to conduct an interrogation.'

But Shawn was lost in his world, 'Man, they should've known better than to let you be in the same room as me all alone, no one looking in from the other side of the room. You never could keep your hands off me for long . . . remember when you tried to kiss me, and then made some silly excuse about "very-close talking"?'

'That was you, Shawn,' Juliet sighed, laughing quietly.

'Really? Huh, well. We always have that time when you proposed to me in front of a whole cafeteria and I had no choice but to say yes, and then later you revealed it was for a case to get my _chi_ back?'

'That was you, as well.'

'Okay,' he narrowed his eyes at her. 'You kissed me in your then-boyfriend's house, and there was a danger of him coming down any moment.'

'Hm,' Juliet sighed with a cheeky smile. ' **That** I did!'

'Sweet! I thought you'd catch me! I saw that scene in a movie that night.'

Juliet narrowed her eyes at him, wishing they were in her house, so she could hurl a cushion at him, and then use the same cushion as a little partition when she pressed on top of him on the couch.

'You are so turned on!' Shawn teased.

'Oh, yes, I am. And that does not bode well for you for tonight.'

'Trust me, I am sooo prepared!'

'Shawn, you're avoiding the question.'

'The answer is yes, I do like that black underwear on you.'

'Shawn!'

'Okay, sorry! But you know that helps me get "visions".'

'Me wearing underwear . . . right. So, did you get any?'

'Yes. I know what happened. And I know who the killer is.'

Juliet stared up at him in wonder. 'You do?' she asked breathlessly.

Shawn tilted his head to the side and peered down at her with his lips pursed up in concentration. 'You are desperately turned on. Whatever did I do?'

'I'm not turned on . . . you know how I feel about your gifts,' Juliet blushed at her kid-looking-at –the-best-ever-candy-store-smack-next-to-a-carnival expression.

'Anyway, the perp will be leaving town in a few, so if we wanna catch him, we gotta go now.'

At that moment, the door flew open, and Karen Vick stormed inside, an officer on either side of her. She glared at Shawn and snapped, 'Mr. Spencer! Did you really murder a man?'

Shawn blinked, double-taking. Juliet froze. Then she jumped up from her seat, and slid between her boss and her boyfriend, 'Chief! No! Wait, Shawn just—Holy . . .! Were you listening in on our conversation?'

Shawn and Juliet froze, as did the chief.

' . . . . . no?' Karen Vick answered. 'I just . . . er . . .'

'Oh. My God!' Juliet exclaimed in utter horror. She was so going to be fired. Wait. Technically, it wasn't her fault that the chief had been snooping in . . . but she did get a bit cosy with her boyfriend at her workstation . . . . .

'Look, guys,' Shawn jumped up and down twice, 'We don't have time for this. I know where the perp is, and we have to catch him. Being with Jules cleared up my psychic senses. So chief, here on, I demand to be left alone with Detective O'Hara during any case I happen to be working on . . . possibly one with a closed door, and a comfortable bed, or recliner . . .'

'SHAWN SPENCER!' Juliet spun around, glaring at him.

'Never mind, Detective. Mr. Spencer, you really know where the culprit is?' the chief demanded.

'Yes, chief! So, we have to hurry!' Shawn insisited.

'O'Hara, take Spencer, and we'll be following you with a few black-and-whites. McNabb! Call Lassiter!'

'Yes, Chief!' Juliet clasped Shawn's wrist just as he was about to say something potentially cringe-worthy and pulled him along to her Green Bug.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

'Watch out!' Juliet screamed and the car swerved wildly, barely missing a blue bike. 'I knew I shouldn't have let you drive!'

'Well, you should've followed your instincts!' Shawn argued.

'You tripped me!'

'And then I caught you!'

'I was catching my breath!'

'No, you were having wild dreams about tonight!'

'Shawn, watch out!' Juliet cried yet again, her eyes falling on the cab at the crossing. The siren on her car was wailing, which gave Shawn even more freedom to drive like a manic.

'Jules, if we don't hurry, we'll never catch this guy!' Shawn shouted back, swerving the car. 'Besides, you won't even have to pay for any damage to your car.'

'I will, if it turns out to be a case of reckless driving!'

'Tell them the spirits took over me and tied you to the car seat!'

' **What**?!'

And Shawn slammed his feet onto the brakes. Juliet flew forward, catching herself on the dashboard just as Shawn flew out of her car, 'You're okay?' he asked breathlessly.

'I could do without the whole blender effect,' Juliet answered, catching her breath as she pulled out her gun and stepped up beside Shawn. 'Stay behind me.'

'Yeah,' he chuckled, bending down. 'That'll happen!'

'Shawn, you are an unarmed civilian, and also the **victim** in this case. I **cannot** let you take the lead. Besides, **I** am the officer of the law,' Juliet pointed to herself, and her eyes caught the glint of metal in Shawn's hand.

He stood up and sighed, 'You sure of the unarmed part?' and he turned the gun in his hand, gripping it, wrapping a finger around the trigger.

'Do you have a license?'

'Of course, I do. Now take the back while I take the front.'

With that, Shawn took a step inside the open gates of the bungalow. As they neared the main door, Juliet whispered, 'Doesn't look like anyone's home.'

'Looks can be deceiving, Jules,' Shawn whispered back, levelling his gun at the main door with impressive caution. Then he knocked on the door quietly.

No answer.

He motioned Juliet to stand back and cover him. She nodded, and with one swift kick, the door flew open with a loud **crash!**

Julietfollowed him inside, taking in the surroundings. They place was unfurnished, and no one seemed to be home. That's when Shawn froze. He put a finger to his lips, and Juliet strained her ears to hear what he heard. And then she heard it, a strange tapping. Like wood. Only . . . why would there be a wooden furniture in an unfurnished house? Shawn nodded at her and cautiously proceeded down the dark hallway to another room. Juliet spun around once, and then moved forward to another room at the other side of the hallway. She slowly turned the knob and stepped inside the dark room, making no sound as she felt for a light switch. She felt one, and flipped it on. And just as the bright light filled the room, she felt a sharp pain at the back of her head.

With a pained grunt, she fell to her knees, the world seemed to dim around her. Her body felt heavy, and she couldn't move for a long while. When her vision started to get a bit better, she could make out a figure leaning down over her. She tried to blink and clear her eyes and the dull pain worsened, causing her to gasp in pain.

She could barely register the vaguely familiar face intently looking down at her before a strange scent filled her breathing canal and her brain went woozy, and her vision darkened to absolute blackness.

Sooooo . . . . . not how she planned to spend her night.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Shawn clutched the gun harder in his hand. He'd held on to it, and thankfully, his dad hadn't asked for it. Besides, he **did** carry a license for arms.

As he rounded the corner, an eerily familiar, unpleasant smell hit him like a sudden wall. He fought to control his breathing and winced at the stink, stepping into the room softly. And then he saw a girl, her back facing him, leaning over something in the ground. He could make out the wooden step ladder in front of her, and could make out that she was clutching onto one of the legs of the ladder, gently tapping it against the white marble floor. Her white-blonde hair seemed to glow in comparison to the dull yellow walls of the room. Like a mop which had been using hair conditioner . . . okay, maybe his sense of humour was off, that definitely didn't sound funny.

He kept the vice-like grip on his gun, skulking towards the figure.

'I was waiting for you,' the figure said, and Shawn jumped about three feet in the air. 'Did your girlfriend slow you down?'

Then the blonde turned and Shawn's breathing hitched. And she pulled what looked like a rope slung over a rung in the ceiling.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Shawn's eyes were half-closed, but he stared up at the beaten, bloody figure of Yin, hanging from the ceiling by his neck, his eyes wide open in horror.

With one final maniac laugh, Allison Cowley slammed the hammer down on Yin's head, and Shawn had to force his eyes to stay open, fighting unconsciousness. Blood pooled at Yin's feet, and Allison threw away her hammer, turning to face Shawn, eyes with the same haunting glint which Yang had in her eyes the day he had met her for the first time.

She stalked over to Shawn and picked up a bloodied knife which lay discarded on the floor, and then roughly placed it under his jaw, forcing his head up. Shawn forced himself to meet her gaze, because all he had wanted to do since she had slammed the hammer onto his shoulder and injected him with some sort of serum was pass out.

And all he could think about was the fact that Yin's blood was mixing with his own as the knife dug deeper under his jaw bone.

'That was fun, wasn't it?' she said in her soft, singsong voice, chilling him to the bone. 'Did that compensate for the torture he inflicted on you?'

'In his . . . defence,' Shawn managed shakily. 'Serial killers barely are physically strong. The only . . . . . only reason they c-can inflict torture is because of mommy-complexes which harden their souls. So . . . . . what's your story . . . family-complex?'

'Why do you ask?' Allison said with an amused chuckle.

'Because people psychotic to your level need to have all sorts of complexes, as well as an underdeveloped brain . . . . . and the trademark creepy voice . . . which could easily be obtained like Stephen Hawking got his trademark creepy voice.'

'That's not very nice, Shawn. Now, I was going to let you stay awake, but if you're gonna be rude, you need to be grounded!'

With that, she grabbed his gun, which had been flung away from him in a manner that she had been the only obstacle keeping him from retrieving it, and Shawn barely registered it as the gun came down hard on his skull.

If that's how much it hurt during her pistol-whipping, only God knows how much force she had exerted on Yin, because that guy's skin had split from the centre of his head and his head was in an odd shape from one side.

Yeah, Yin was probably dead.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

 **A/N: Yeah . . . cliffhanger! *slow, evil smile spreads over my face***

 ***readers shudder***


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Hey, there guys! This might seem slightly slow, but I'm saving the main whumpage for the next chapter. But don't worry, this is the chapter where all the T-Rated stuff begins, and it has a very angry Juliet and . . . . . . .**

 **(Ch8) A Wildly Attractive Killer At A Sexual Level**

 **A/N: The title is a clue . . . . . you might guess who the other kidnapper(s) is if you remember something about that line! Okay, here we go . . . . .**

 **CH 8:-**

Juliet groaned, sitting up slightly from the uncomfortable position in which she had been deposited. Then the ground jerked, and she fell to her side, falling on something soft and warm. Her first thought was a bear, and that she was in a jungle.

Wow, so Gus-inian of her.

Then she realized, the solid floor beneath her was that of a vehicle . . . a van. And the body on which had landed smelt extremely homey. **Shawn.**

She propped herself up on her elbows with a grunt of pain. They must have stopped moving, because she could no longer feel the vibrations of the engine below her knees.

She slid up to the warm body, and turned Shawn over. His eyes were closed, and on checking his neck, she felt a strong heartbeat there. Sighing in relief, she pulled away her hand, trying and failing miserably to remember who her captor had been.

Then her eyes fell on her fingers, which had just pulled away from Shawn's throat . . . they were coated in a dark wet thing, it was hard to make it out in the dark van, but she assumed it was blood.

Reaching over, she tilted Shawn's head upwards, and the slice right under his jaw line caught her eye. Then she put a hand on Shawn's chest, and she could feel the sweat on the exposed part of his chest coating her fingers.

'Shawn,' she whispered.

Shawn didn't move a single muscle. She gently shook him, afraid she would jostle any other injuries he may have.

That's when she felt the world spin a bit, and she grabbed at her head, 'Ah! Son of a bitch!'

Shawn shifted at her voice, and she made out a slight whimper coming from his, right before the door of the van flew open, the bright light momentarily blinding her.

'There she is!' it was Allison Cowley. Juliet froze. Not her. Not her again.

'Allison!' Juliet growled. 'Let us go.'

'Yeah, I would do that, detective . . . . . I'm sorry, are you still a junior detective?' Allison taunted. Juliet glared at her.

'Anywho,' Allison dismissed, taking a step into the van. 'It's not my call anymore. See, I've got a partner, who has reserved you r boyfriend . . . . . and I am leaving Shawn all to her. So without her permission, I can't let you go.'

Then she promptly grabbed at Juliet, who ducked away and delivered a perfect punch on her face, even in her dazed state.

'You,' she grunted as she grabbed Allison around the waist and pushed her tactfully towards the edge of the van, 'have no **idea** how much hot waters you are in right now. Not only are you a certified psycho,' she growled with effort and managed to get Allison's right side over the edge. 'You have kidnapped an officer of the law and a police consultant.'

Allison fell over the edge and lay with her back against the road. She looked up at Juliet, her chest rising and falling rapidly from her scuffle, 'Oh, but Detective O'Hara, it was Shawn who kidnapped you!'

Juliet froze. And it clicked into place, 'YOU!' she cried in anguish. 'You were setting Shawn up! You're the one working with Yin, aren't you? You're his new Yang!'

'I'm no **Yang**!' Allison spat out, curling her lips in disgust. 'I am the new **Yin**. And because Yin refused to realize that, he set out to find a new Yang. In **Shawn**.'

Juliet gasped, and Allison grinned at the horrified expression. She stood up with a grunt of effort, and levelled a gun at the detective. Juliet slowly raised her hands, but her eyes focused on the gun.

'That's Shawn's,' she said simply.

'Yes, it is, Juliet,' another voice called from around the side of the van. And then her other captor stepped into view, making Juliet's breathing hitch and her heartbeat went wild. 'A box of Mars bars to you.'

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

'Looky, looky!' the brown-haired ex-convict sang, looking at something past Juliet. The detective spun around to see the Shawn's eyes were open, looking around and trying to take in the surroundings.

'Shawn!' Juliet sighed in relief. 'You okay?'

Shawn opened his mouth, and closed it again, his eyes trying to focus on Juliet.

'No talking!' Allison barked, and Juliet felt the gun digging into her spine. ' _ **Move**_!'

Juliet kept her eyes on Shawn for a little while longer, and then she was forced to step out of the van when the gun poked her. She kept her arms raised as the captors led her down a rundown path. She could hear the other offender half-dragging a much disorientated Shawn right behind Allison.

'Now, inside,' Allison commanded, kicking open the door to the strangely well-kept building. Juliet stepped inside, and was hit by a massive feeling of déjà vu. But she wasn't sure why.

Allison led her down a flight of stairways that reminded Juliet of the stairs leading to the interrogation rooms at the SBPD. Except, this place wasn't that safe. And the lighting was horrible. Twice or thrice, Juliet had narrowly missed falling and impaling herself on something.

Even in the dingy lighting, she felt like the room she was being forced into was very familiar. But then, she had no more time to think about it, Allison forced her into the room, and tied one hand of hers to the rungs on the table with a thick rope. Then she was made to sit down on one side of the table, on a very familiar chair.

Then Allison went out and dragged in Shawn, who looked more focused than before. But he didn't say a word, struggling to observe the room. His probable concussion and the darkness couldn't have been helping.

'What did you do this time, to implicate Shawn?' Juliet spat at the psycho.

'I beat the pulp out of Yin, and then I hung him.'

Juliet laughed, 'What, you thought they won't get your DNA off of him?'

Personally, she knew that a brutally murdered Yin was all it's take for the whole damn SBPD to believe that it had been, as a matter of fact, Shawn who was the new serial killer.

'They might,' Allison agreed. 'But it wouldn't matter. You two would be dead by then. Now, I want Shawny here to die first, make you suffer . . . but my partner here disagrees. What is your opinion?'

'You're crazy!' Juliet screamed. That seemed to bring Shawn back into focus yet again, and he frowned at her across the table. Distracted, she didn't notice what Allison had been doing until it was too late.

'NO!' Juliet cried, but Allison had already struck Shawn's head with the gun. Shawn slumped forward in his seat with a grunt of pain, and his head fell to his chest.

Allison laughed, 'I wonder how he'd function if I gave him brain damage!'

'You bitch!' Juliet screamed, struggling against her bonds, as the crazy walked out of the room, slamming the door shut behind her. Juliet quickly turned to Shawn, and she could make out the trail of blood coming down to his right temple. A drop of blood fell to the table.

'He'll die of the injury!' Juliet shouted. She knew the two captors were probably listening to her. 'At least give some pressure to his wound!'

But there was no response to her request except for the resounding silence.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Carlton Lassiter pinched the bridge of his nose. And on closing his eyes, all he could see was the bloody pulp that used to be Yin, hanging from the ceiling by his neck.

 **Spencer,** he thought. Then he shook himself. He had absolutely forbidden himself from thinking anything about the case till the results came. Deep down, he was horrified . . . terrified even, that the man he had known for the last seven years could turn out to be a serial killer. It was bone-chilling.

His mind wandered off to his missing partner. At that point, he kind of wished that Spencer was the kidnapper, at least, he would never hurt O'Hara. But the other problem persisting was that if the two had been kidnapped by Yin's killers . . . . .

If the killers and Shawn shared a common enemy, why did they take that numbskull?

'Detective!' McNabb hurried into the room. 'We've got a coroner's report on Yin's body. The Chief wants you down to the briefing area.'

Lassiter jumped up from his seat and hurried outside to the briefing area, vaguely aware of the fact that McNabb was right behind him. Vick noticed him as he burst into the room and said, 'Okay, gather around everyone.'

All officers gathered around. The biscuit lady moved towards the area too, however, a sharp look from the chief made her think better of it.

The Chief then turned on the projector, and images from the crime scene flashed up. She turned to the officers and started, 'Okay, so, today, our psychic consultant managed to get a revelation about the murder of the Jane Doe we found murdered in his apartment with Mr. Spencer's DNA on him. A short while before the murder was committed, we got a call from Detective O'Hara, informing us that someone had attacked Spencer at the Psych office. It is believed that the assailant who tried to kill Spencer is the same person who murdered our Jane Doe. So, Spencer got the vision, and Detective O'Hara and he headed down to the place where he believed the murderer was. O'Hara was instructed to call for backup in case they found the culprit. We, however, did not get any call requesting backup. We tracked O'Hara's car to a remote bungalow which seemed deserted, about two hours after they had left. While we did not find O'Hara and Spencer, we did find someone else . . . . .'

Taking in a deep breath, Karen turned to the projector as it displayed an image of how they had found Yin: hanging from the ceiling, reduced to a mass of bloody pulp.

'Allow me to interject here, Chief,' came a smooth voice over the shocked murmurings of the officer. Lassiter felt his blood pressure rise, but he quenched the desire to choke the Detective from the first floor, these guys just begged to be made into a detective, and then they thought they were the finest crime solving machines that there ever would be.

'Yes, Detective Hill,' Chief Vick sighed.

'In my professional opinion, I believe that taking into account the fact that Spencer's DNA was found on the first body as well,' he paused at the narrowed eyes of several officers and the chief herself, before continuing. 'I feel we can guess who could've killed Yin. The serial killer has been after him for four years now, we can assume that he snapped, figured out it was Yin, and on reaching the destination, brutally murdered him.'

Hill raised his arm to stop the angry protests. 'And when O'Hara happened to become the witness, he disappeared with her. Or, there is always a chance that they both ran away to protect Spencer's dirty little secret, taking into consideration the romantic relationship between the two.'

Silence prevailed in the whole station. Karen Vick smiled slowly, 'Detective Hill, how like you low grade detectives to try and do everything to eliminate anyone who happens to be better than you.'

At this, the smug smile on Hill's face evaporated. He seemed to shrink a bit and Lassiter sneered at him, before snapping, 'Now, SBPD, if you would like to see some detective work, and not some pathetic excuse for a detective work, we have the coroner's report on Yin's body.'

The chief didn't stop him from insulting the officer, and Hill let a dark look settle over his features before he retreated to the back of the room.

'We have bigger problems pathetic detectives, Officers,' Karen Vick announced. She turned to the projector just as a new image popped up. And Lassiter grit his teeth.

'Allison Cowley. Many may remember her from the last Yin case; she was his apprentice, as confirmed by Mr. Spencer's and Detective O'Hara's statements. She escaped the confines of her asylum after killing two night guards two days prior. Why the asylum failed to contact us immediately to forewarn for Shawn's safety is still being investigated into. And this, this person many of you may not remember. Detective Lassiter?'

oooooooooooooooooooooooo

'Lindsey Leiken,' Shawn chuckled. 'I'd be damned. I never thought we'd run into each other like this. Maybe you could untie me and I could **not** make the mistake of sleeping with a killer-slash-fake psychic again.'

'Are you sure you don't wanna date me again, Shawn?' Lindsey smiled down at him fondly. For the first time in his entire damn lifetime, Shawn was scared of a fond look. Then Lindsey cupped Shawn's cheek and leaned closer, whispering softly, 'I think we fit together perfectly.'

She swooped closer, way too close for his comfort and he leaned back, answering, 'Yeah, well, I kinda sorta found a girl, and I'm totally committed to her.'

'Really?' Lindsey searched Shawn's hazel eyes, piercing gaze seemed like she was trying to reach into him with her eyes and force his heart to relent. 'How committed would that be?'

'I'm so committed, it's stupid,' Shawn answered, holding the gaze, vaguely aware of the fact that he had pulled this one once before. 'I'm stupid committed.'

'Well, that's just a shame!' she sighed, pulling away from him. 'Who's the lucky girl?'

If Shawn had relaxed a bit from the end to her proximity to him, he was tensed all over again. He couldn't bring Jules into this, so he took a deep breath.

Okay, this would be just like beating a polygraph.

'Oh, you know,' Shawn answered, gaze unwavering. 'Just this girl I met around in a restaurant.'

That was half-true.

'Ha,' she laughed. 'This girl wouldn't happen to be a certain Juliet O'Hara, would she?'

Shawn drew a sharp breath, 'Okay, but she has absolutely nothing to do with this thing, right? I mean, this is just between me, you and that chimp from Monkey Shine.'

'I might consider that,' she answered with a chuckle. She bent over; her lips brushed his earlobe as she whispered. 'I might consider that. But you need to cooperate for that.'

Shawn forced himself to keep from jumping back in disgust, and he clenched his jaw. 'I might consider cooperating, but only if you keep your word and don't let Allison near Juliet. And preferably me. In fact, you could just lock her in the bathroom for being a naughty girl and killing her master.'

'We'll see who'll be the naughty girl,' Lindsey whispered, drawing back just a bit so that her face was centimetres from him. Shawn forced down a retort and a grimace.

'Deal,' he managed.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

'I'm sure you remember Lindsey Leiken.' The chief gave him a meaningful look.

Lassiter glanced at the new image. And he nodded, 'She was a phony who came from D.C., claiming to be psychic as well. Later, Spencer exposed her to be a phony, and she had been in prison for the last three years on assault charges on Spencer and the murder of her partner-in-crime.'

'Yeah, well, she was out on parole. We can safely assume that Allison tracked her down and somehow these tow entered into a partnership. Now, they probably have Shawn and Juliet.'

'And how can we assume this?' Hill had re-emerged from the crowd. People shot him dirty looks which were ignored diligently.

'Because we found Allison's DNA on Yin.' Vick answered triumphantly.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Allison had dragged Juliet out of the room after a while and had tied a cloth over her eyes. Then, she had forced Juliet into a chair after taking her someplace.

After securing Juliet to the chair, Allison pulled off the blindfold and Juliet found herself looking at Shawn's slumped figure through a tinted window. Frowning, she looked around, and then realization hit her.

'This is a police building!' she gasped.

'One point!' Allison smirked. 'This is the old SBPD building.'

'So, you'll be killing us at a police station?' Juliet laughed at the irony. Allison smiled, 'No.'

The laughter died in Juliet's throat. 'What do you mean?'

'We'll torture your Shawnie. Then, we'll kill you both.'

'You wouldn't dare!' Juliet shouted, her eyes flashing.

'Oh, I will. And you know why? Because there is absolutely nothing you can do against it.'

Juliet was spared from screaming at her again, because Leiken threw a glass of water in Shawn's face. He gasped and woke up, and then he looked up at the figure standing before him.

'Why did she join you?' Juliet asked after watching Shawn stall for a while.

Allison growled a bit, as she heard Shawn referring to her as the chimp from Monkey Shines. Then she sighed, 'Well, seems like she really did fall for your boyfriend all those years ago . . .'

'What?' Juliet snarled. Then she could see Lindsey Leiken lean very close to her boyfriend, and her fingers dug into the armrests to which her arms were secured. Shawn clenched his jaw and she could see his eyes hardening as she whispered something to him.

Then she drew away and Shawn visibly relaxed.

' _Oh, you know,'_ he said. ' _Just this girl I met in a restaurant_.'

' _Ha_ ,' Lindsey laughed with pure joy. ' _This girl wouldn't happen to be a certain Juliet O'Hara, would she?_ '

Shawn drew a sharp breath, and with him Juliet took in just as much air. ' _Okay, but she has absolutely nothing to do with this thing, right? I mean, this is just between me, you and that chimp from Monkey Shine.'_

Allison roared again, 'He should learn to control his mouth. I can cause him so much pain, he'll forget how to speak.'

'You'd better not try that, Chimp,' Juliet couldn't resist.

'And why's that?' Allison spun her around to face her, resting a blade she hadn't noticed earlier right beside her right eye. Juliet froze. Thankfully, the very next moment, Lindsey started whispering to Shawn again, and her attacker turned back to the glass.

Then the brown-haired woman leaned close to Shawn again, and Juliet bit her tongue to keep herself from spewing expletives. The two talked quietly for a while, and she could see Shawn's jaw clenching and unclenching and his nails digging into the table as he glared at Lindsey. Finally, when she felt like she would scream if she wasn't able to hear anything soon, she heard Shawn's voice ring loud and clear, making a feeling of dread settle over her, ' _ **Deal**_.'

Lindsey smiled and leaned over, kissing Shawn's cheek. Juliet clenched her fists tighter, if that was possible, and Shawn had closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, his body tensing and his jawline becoming even more prominent.

' _Good_ ,' Leiken finally drew away and she sat back on the table, in front of Shawn. She rested her feet on the chair on both sides of Shawn and Juliet could see him trying to scoot away. But he had been just as tightly secured to the table as she had been.

His eyes reflected the same disappointment as she was experiencing as she realized that Lindsey Leiken wanted to have a long chat with Shawn.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooo


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N:** **Sorry if the last chapter seemed to have a bit of an abrupt ending. Thanks to PsychFan1, cosette141 and special thanks to the enthusiastic TheShulesLovinPsycho for the heart-warming reviews.**

 **Okay, so I felt like the change to the title may not make a lot of sense to you guys as I left a super-baby hint during the story itself, so this chapter's title and content clears it up nice. This may seem slow, but I'm saving the jalapeno and chili sauce . . . with guacamole for the next chapter, so stay tuned.**

 **And others, it takes barely a minute to give a review, and it'll make me update a bit faster! Please REVIEW! And I'll love to hear your perceptions of what might happen and any ideas! Everyone has some!**

 **Chapter 9: The Next Generation Of Yin And Yang Are Way More Violent.**

Gus was frustrated. Nobody told him anything, and he wasn't very patient when on an all time sugar-high from the glucose.

He was especially frustrated now that he had realized that Shawn wasn't getting to come over anytime soon, and nobody wanted to tell him why. He kept wondering why everyone looked so damn guilty whenever Shawn's name was mentioned, until something happened.

It had been the normal thing; his mom had come in to give him some pineapple Jell-O for his dinner. Lassie had run away and hadn't returned yet, which didn't really surprise Gus much. Henry had stayed put, but Gus had a sneaking suspicion that that was mainly because the doctors felt that Henry would be able to sympathize with him.

She had started to set up the bed they had provided, beside his own, and that's when Gus had finally snapped, too damn angry with Shawn, 'Has that son of a bitch arrived yet?'

'Who?' his mom had looked up with a startled expression.

' **Shawn** ,' Gus sighed.

'Honey,' his mother smiled. 'That's not very fair, is it? I mean, it's Shawn. He'll come around soon. He was pretty shaken.'

'Yeah, he must've run away,' Gus said darkly. 'That's his coping mechanism. Remind me to circle this date ten years from now, because I know that's when he's coming back.'

'Gussie,' his mother chided, her eyes darting around nervously, 'Shawn is a great friend, and he'll probably be here anytime now.'

That made dread settle over Gus. 'What did you say?' he asked faintly.

'He's a great friend, Gu—' her eyes widened in horror as she realized what she had done. The Gusters never praised Shawn. To them, Shawn was just like a leech which sucked the success out of their son's life.

'WHAT IS HAPPENING? WHERE IS SHAWN?' Gus shouted, and the heart monitor started beeping like Shawn, that is, in a hyperactive manner.

A nurse rushed in, and Henry followed.

'Calm down, Gus!' Henry commanded. Gus took a deep breath, and he calmed down. The nurse visibly relaxed, putting away the syringe she had just picked up.

'What happened to Shawn?' Gus demanded again.

Henry and his mother shared a look, and then his mom slowly came and sat down beside him, looking down. 'Gus, I am so sorry, darling. I just, I was absolutely unfair to Shawn, and it wasn't my place to say something like that.'

'What did you . . . did you blame him for what happened to me?' Gus took a deep breath to keep his heart rate from soaring again.

His mom nodded mournfully.

'Oh, my God,' Gus whispered. 'I can't believe this! So, now I can't save anyone's life? You're gonna blame Shawn for everything?'

'Gus,' his mom looked up at him, the emotion in her eyes suddenly flipping. 'I wasn't wrong to accuse him. I was just wrong in saying that to him.'

Henry looked at her sharply. He opened him mouth but Gus beat him to the punch, 'Hold it! You were not right to accuse him! Mentally or in his face!'

'If he hadn't taken you-'

'He didn't take me, it was Henry's idea, and I relented before he could even ask! Mom, it was Yin! He has screwed up Shawn's life! Shawn may hide it behind his facade of perpetual happiness and ignorance but he was affected! He was affected, and he has been terrified of what happened to all those he loved because of Yin and Yang!'

'Why did you jump out in front of him, then? I'm pretty sure he wouldn't have done that for you!'

'He already did!' Gus shouted, and then there was pin drop silence.

Finally, he heard Lassie, 'What?'

Gus turned to look up at the lanky detective, who had turned up at his doorstep.

'Remember when he went away for ten years?' Gus explained calmly. Lassiter gave him a blank look, which was soon replaced by a look of absolute delight, 'He can do that?'

Ignoring him, Henry nodded.

'Yeah, well, before he went off alone, he spent a day and a half with me. We went to a bar in the outskirts of Santa Barbara,' Gus continued.

'Who the heck let you two in a bar? You were seventeen!' Henry interjected.

' **Shawn** was seventeen. I was eighteen. Besides, we just had some lemonade. Anyway, when we left, this mugger appeared, and he was drunk, and he had a gun, and he had seen that I had been the one with the money. Shawn never pays,' Gus commented when Lassiter opened him mouth with a frown. 'And this drunk, gun wielding mugger appeared from nowhere, Shawn was chatting up some girl inside, and I was going to his bike. And I was so stupid. I didn't give him my wallet. And he threatened to shoot me,' he swallowed. 'And I still didn't. I mean, he was drunk, and with a gun, I should've. But I didn't. And I was waiting,' he gulped again, the memory was too haunting. He had been kinda grateful when Shawn had asked him not to mention it to anyone. 'I was waiting for the bullet to hit me, but it never came. And the mugger ran away. And I was happy. And then I saw Shawn on the ground, and there was blood coming down from his left shoulder . . . right from where he got shot last time.'

Henry gasped, paling evidently. 'Why didn't you ever tell me?'

'Because they didn't keep him for longer than a night, he signed out an AMA, and he made me pinky swear.'

Henry looked like he was the one with anger issues this time round. But Gus focussed on his mother, who seemed to be shrivelled up in shame.

'Please tell me you told him I was asking for him,' Gus said.

'Juliet did,' Henry answered, and then all eyes turned on Lassiter.

'Um . . . okay,' he said slowly. 'Since everything seems to be out in the open now, I'll just go ahead and say it. Guster, you can shut your ears if you want.'

Gus gave him a looked, and Lassiter continued, 'Okay! So . . . Shawn's attacker struck again.'

'What?' Henry said.

'And took Juliet and Shawn hostage,' Lassiter said quickly.

'What?' Gus gasped.

'And brutally murdered Yin,' Lassiter followed up quickly.

'What?' Henry cried.

'And she's Allison Cowley and her accomplice is most likely Lindsey Leiken, an ex-convict out on parole.'

'WHAT?' this time, it was Gus.

'What, is there and echo around here?' Lassie snapped.

'Wait, who's Lindsey Leiken?' Henry frowned.

'Shawn hooked up with her, five-six years back,' Gus muttered, dazed. Shooting him a look, Lassie added, 'And she was also a fake psychic who turned out to be a thief and a murderer and Spencer caught her.'

'Yeah, that too,' Gus muttered.

'Yin's dead?' Henry started to realize what Gus had started to realize.

That didn't sound right.

'And Yang's dead,' Gus realized.

'Yes,' Lassiter said darkly. 'We believe this is the next generation of Yin and Yang, and Cowley is probably the Yin. And the former Yin was the first victim of Yin-Yang.'

 _And Shawn or Juliet could be the next one, they all realized._

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Shawn shifted his weight as he gained consciousness; he must have nodded off.

'Shawn?' came Juliet's fuzzy voice. Smiling a bit, Shawn started to turn to drape an arm around her to keep her from stealing away to the bathroom, and someone ripped his right arm off. He gave a yelp of pain and then bit his lip, the pain jarring him back to the bleak conditions.

'Shawn! What's wrong?' Juliet cried.

'We're in a hostage situation,' Shawn muttered through clenched teeth. His vision cleared and he focused on Juliet, who had been made to sit on the chair across him. There was a cut across her forehead which Shawn didn't really remember seeing while they were being escorted to the former interrogation room. Then again, he hadn't exactly been seeing much at that time, had he?

He frowned. Something was off. His vision tunneled on her wrists, which were red and the right one was slightly swollen. His eyes widened in alarm, but before he could say a word, Juliet said, 'I'm fine, I just kinda got hell bent on killing Lindsey Leiken after her little chat . . . and they tied me down, and I struggled a bit too hard, and they didn't really want me to die from slits in my wrists. So they set me free.'

He opened his mouth again, and she beat him to the punch again, 'I just showed Monkey Shines my right wrist, not my left one. I can use that arm well and good, and I'm a lefty so . . .'

Shawn blinked in amazement at the fact that she knew exactly what he had been about to ask. Then he gave her his sarcastic lopsided smile and said, 'We fit together perfectly!'

Juliet frowned at the hoarseness of his voice. She reached down and pulled up a tiny ice cream cup filled with melting ice chips and took some on her fingers, scooting closer and then gently dropping them into Shawn's mouth.

He sighed from the comfort of the ice chips and felt even better when Juliet gently brushed his lower lip with her fingertips. After three rounds of feeding him ice, she pulled back and said, 'So.'

'So . . .' he looked up at her, lowering his head a bit and asking genuinely:-

'Are you still turned on?'

Juliet laughed, and then she leaned over and pecked his lips, 'I love you!'

'We'll get through this,' Shawn promised, a smile playing on his own lips. 'I promise. I will protect you because you have me now. I know I may not appear that physically imposing at first blush, but it turns out I have the tenacity of a Swiss Fox, and the instincts of a dragonfly.'

Juliet smiled, 'You realize one of those is a rabbit, and the other is an insect?' 

Shawn leaned closer, or tried to, anyway, 'That's why I chose them.'

Juliet reached out and put her palm against his cheek, and he closed his eyes, whispering, 'But I'm trying to tell you that I would protect you.'

Juliet closed her eyes at the memory and said, 'And I will protect you right back.' 

Shawn winked at her, squinting open his eyes, 'I think you're swell.'

'Well, my wrists are,' Juliet sighed, breaking the magic.

Shawn kissed her hand, turning his face towards her palm. Then he cleared his throat and continued, 'So, you got anything?'

'Well,' she put her hand on the table and glanced nervously at the glass separating them from the viewing room.

'They're not there,' Shawn assured.

'How'd you know?'

'Psychic, remember?' he quirked an eyebrow and gave her his smirk. Juliet narrowed her eyes at him, but a smile played on her lips.

'All I know is that they'll ultimately kill us, not very painlessly, I believe.'

'That's a given,' Shawn shrugged, and immediately regretted it, wincing in pain.

'And Allison hates it when anyone calls her "Chimp", and Lindsey really does have a soft spot for you,' Juliet finished, trying to act nonchalant.

Shawn tilted his face a bit. It felt good to let loose a bit, it felt like the first time he felt okay since the attack on him. Then he joked, 'Don't be jealous.'

'I'm not jealous,' Juliet said, emphasizing each word.

'It's okay,' Shawn said. 'People get jealous . . . everyone's bitten by the green-eyed monster once in their nine lives!'

' **Cats** have nine lives. And Shawn, she's a killer. I know you won't date her,' Juliet argued.

'That is correct,' Shawn concluded after a moment of pondering. 'But you don't know that!'

'Yes, I do,' Juliet rolled her eyes. And that's when Shawn had a promising, albeit unpleasant idea. Juliet peered at him suspiciously as his countenance changed, and Shawn pursed his lips in concentration before announcing, 'I have an idea.'

Juliet narrowed her eyes at him, 'Is it a good one?'

'No,' Shawn answered truthfully. There was a long pause. Jules seemed to be waiting for something. Then she prompted, ' **But . . .** '

Shawn tilted his head in confusion and questioned, 'But what?'

'No . . . I mean, where are the buts, Shawn?'

'Above the legs and below the back,' Shawn replied.

Juliet sighed, and she pressed her head against the table. For ten counts, Shawn had a view of her now dirty blazer rising and falling with each deep breath, and then she sat up and said calmly, 'Shawn, what I meant is . . . _**where is the "but" part of your statement?**_ As in, "but, the plan is . . ." etcetera, etcetera.'

'Ooooh!' he realized. 'Silly me. Well, Jules, sweetheart, there are no buts.'

'What the . . . Shawn! You mean you have a plan, and it's bad? That's all you have?'

'Well, it'll get us out . . . if it works.'

'I'm guessing that's a big _**if**_ _.'_

'Well, duh. It's a plan by **moi** , Jules.'

'What is the plan?'

'You're not gonna like it.'

'I know. Just tell me what I have to do.'

'Yeah, the plan is that you don't have to do anything . . . quite literally,' Shawn cleared his throat nervously.

She gave him a wary look, 'What are you getting at?'

Shawn smiled a bit and took a deep breath before continuing . . .

oooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Carlton Lassiter took a bite of his spaghetti and enjoyed the deliciousness of the tomato flavoured dough. His wife sat down adjacent to him and smiled at him, 'So, any leads on where Shules are?'

And the moment of enjoyment was over. Carlton choked hard, and after three gulps of cool water, he felt air whoosh back into his lungs.

' **Don't** call them that!' he gasped in horror.

'Okay, okay!' Marlow assured, an amused grin on her face. 'But that's what we call 'em when they're not around!'

' **You**. Not **we**. And I refuse to ever acknowledge the fact that there is enough permanency in O'Hara's relationship with that simpleton is strong enough to give them a single name!'

'I think it's sweet, and I don't think you can say that there's no permanency in their relationship, honeybear.'

'I don't know what happened to O'Hara . . . didn't she hit her head during that fight with Cowley two years back?' he mused to himself.

'Carlton,' Marlowe chided softly. 'So, any leads?'

'Yeah, well,' Lassiter said taking another forkful of the spaghetti. 'It's Allison Cowley, for sure; we got her DNA off the body. There also seems to have been a second person, and after some filtration through lists of convicts out on parole, we came down to a Lindsey Leiken. Did you ever meet her?'

'Leiken,' Marlowe mused, and then she brightened, 'I believe I have. She was pretty famous among the group which consisted of all criminals Shawn had busted.'

'Was she, now?' Lassiter tuned in, absolutely focused on this possible lead.

'As a matter of fact, I think Big Wendy knows a lot about her . . .'

'Where is Big Wendy, now?' Lassiter jumped up from his seat, startling Marlowe.

'I think she went back inside after punching a guy in a supermarket . . .'

'Sweet!' Carlton Lassiter ran out of the door; delicious spaghettis could wait till he found his partner.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Karen Vick put a hand to her head before she asked again, 'Wendy, listen . . . Allison has kidnapped Shawn and Juliet and she might hurt them. Now we think Lindsey might be involved . . . and we need to know all you know about her.'

'I ain't gonna say a word till I get a guarantee that I will be assigned a new parole officer who isn't as much of a –' the convict was cut off when she realized what had been said. Her hazel eyes widened, 'Allison Cowley? Man, that woman is bad news. She was here before they put her in the loony bin.'

'We know,' Lassiter growled beside her. ' **We** put her in the loony bin.'

'Lassiter,' Karen warned. 'Please continue, Wendy.'

'Well, see, I'm just telling ya all I know 'cause I know that Allison girlie is one crazy badass. She told us all sorts of crazy things when she was here . . . about how she had something colourful planned for this guy who'd caught her . . .'

'Shawn.'

'Yeah, that psychic guy. Well, and I think you wanna find out Shawn quickly if you wanna keep him alive.'

'We figured as much, please continue.'

'Okay, so Leiken, eh? Well, she got out on parole right before I came back. Her parole officer's a kitten, by the way,' after a pointed look, the huge woman continued, 'Well, so, Lindsey Leiken had this soft spot for your psychic guy . . . kept sayin' on and on how she couldn't bring herself to shoot him when she took him hostage right before getting arrested 'cause she had a soft spot for him.'

'She . . . had a soft spot for him,' Lassiter raised his eyebrows.

'Heck, yeah, she did,' Wendy agreed. 'In fact, I don't know why she would lay a finger on the psychic boy. She seemed pretty into him.'

'That doesn't make any sense,' Lassiter protested.

'Never mind that, Detective. Okay Wendy, we get it; Lindsey liked Shawn. Anything else?' Karen cut in.

'Not a thing comes to mind,' she accepted.

'Okay, well, you've been somewhat helpful, I'd say. Now, we've got some ideas . . .'

'We have?' Lassiter frowned. Karen nodded, deep in thought, 'I believe **I** do . . .'

Oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

 **A/N: Do you guys want Madeleine to come in? Or can we do without a prospective Mom-in-law/daughter-in-law moment? Your preference in the reviews!**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N:** **Okay, okay, I know I've been AWOL for a while, but i have an explanation: School Has Been HELL! In fact, I wrote this chapter, and tomorrow I have a History test I still have to study for, so cut me 0.00001% slack. And this chapter is kinda short, but it's got the whump, _yeah!_**

 **Ch 10: A Shocking Case.**

It only took an explosion to rouse Juliet O'Hara from her disturbed slumber. Moaning in pain from the ache in her joints after a struggle against Lindsey Leiken, she pried open her eyes and found Shawn lying on his side, secured to a chair, in front of her. She blinked, taking in his surprised expression.

'Jules! You're up!' he greeted. And then a foot came in her field of view, kicking Shawn in the gut. He winced in pain and grunted, 'Gently, please. There's a reason why I use baby shampoo for my hair.'

'Hey!' Juliet finally came to her senses and shouted, directing her fury on Allison. A partially bloody cut stretched down her cheek and she glared at Juliet briefly, before flipping Shawn's chair on its back with a bang, and dragging him across the room, away from Juliet. Finally, the junior detective realised what was happening. This must be the "torturing her boyfriend" part. Juliet struggled against the cool metal chain which tied her arms to the wall behind her.

'Don't you dare lay a finger on him!' Juliet warned. But it was an empty threat.

And Allison knew that.

So did Shawn. And then Juliet saw the cut across Shawn's jaw and the split lip. Something was off, but she couldn't make it out. Shawn seemed more subdued than he had been earlier.

And there was something in his eyes, an emotion Juliet simply couldn't place . . .

And then she saw the lean, menacing figure in the doorway, which couldn't have been Leiken by any means, step out of the shadows.

She could finally place the emotion in Shawn's eyes.

Terror.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

'Mr. Spencer, I can't say it's very nice to meet you again,' Charles Wignall said in his soft, calm voice. Juliet could see the skin around Shawn's eyes tighten, and the crows feet wrinkles by his eyes deepened as he plastered a smirk on his face, 'Can't say you are . . . seeing how I got your diplomatic immunity revoked and all.'

'That, and you ruined my life,' Wignall took a step closer to where Shawn sat. 'My acquaintances rejected me, my job was taken, my wife divorced me . . .'

'That's a bummer, man,' Shawn swallowed. 'Now, even though I'm not divorced, not even married, for that matter, but I **do** have some sound advice for you . . . don't try and get her back, see, because—'

'Yeah, see,' Wignall interrupted. 'That's not entirely possible.'

'It's not?' Shawn froze. Recovering quickly, he chuckled, 'Heh! Well, you'd probably hate telling good ol' me why that is, right?'

'I guess you could just say,' Wignall approached Shawn, and drew out something from behind his back. Juliet's breath caught as she realized what it was, and another glint of the metal confirmed her fears.

Meanwhile Wignall continued calmly, 'That I took care of her incessant pity party and gossiping.'

'What, you kill her too?' Shawn jabbed, eyes flitting nervously to the now exposed blade in Wignall's hand.

'More or less,' Wignall locked his eyes on Shawn. 'And I blame you . . . I loved her, and you made me kill her.'

'Okay, Charley-Boy, calm down,' Shawn said slowly, eyes widening as Wignall's eyes hardened. 'I'm sure you loved your wife . . . so much that you wanted to end the pain you caused her. And you did it.'

'Shawn,' Juliet dared to whisper. It wasn't the best idea to play with the mind of the guy who had a knife the side of Juliet's forearms.

'Is that what you call it?' Wignall lowered the knife a bit, and Shawn relaxed slightly, encouraging in a soft voice, 'Of course.'

'Well, I call it murder. In cold blood,' growling, the Brit forced Shawn's head up, placing the knife against his neck.

'Don't hurt him!' Juliet commanded. Wignall turned his gaze to her, and the expression in his eyes made Juliet's heart stop. He looked psychotic, and she decided to drop the hard-ass cop mode. 'Please.'

'Jules,' Shawn croaked, and Wignall pressed the blade into his skin harder, eliciting a grunt of pain from Shawn as a drop of bright red blood started trailing down his pale throat.

'Don't do it, Wignall!' Juliet pleaded.

'Why not?' the man growled. 'He ruined me! I have all the right to kill him. Don't you agree, detective?' his expression turned desperate.

'No, Wignall, I don't. Frankly, you're asking me if I think you killing the guy I love is right!' Juliet snapped. The desperation disappeared, and the cold look came back in his eyes.

'Well, that's your bad,' he said simply, motioning in Juliet's direction. For a moment, she didn't get it. And then she realized she had completely forgotten about Allison. However, the psycho made sure to make her presence felt in a dramatic way as she came close to Juliet.

Juliet screamed out in pain, the sudden, sharp pain drowning out Shawn's desperate cries of her name. As soon as the taser left her skin, she groaned in pain, and finally registered Shawn's pleading, which was coupled with gasps of pain and a choking voice.

Opening her eyes, she could see the blade had made a good gash on Shawn's throat, and that Wignall was giving her an odd, fascinated look that made her feel nauseous.

'Jules, are you okay?' Shawn asked in a worried voice. Trying hard to get back her breath and get up from where she now lay on the floor, Juliet nodded slowly, before whispering in a hoarse voice, 'I'm okay.'

'That's just too bad,' Allison chided, before putting the taser back against the exposed area on the side of her neck. Juliet cried out in pain, and she shut her eyes tight, screaming for all she was worth, struggling to get away from the constant supply of electricity. But the pain didn't stop, not until she could do nothing but whimper, softly whispering Shawn's name, asking him to make it stop.

It was a while before she could open her eyes and register Shawn's worried face barely inches from her. The electricity had set her body to vibration mode, and she shook in Shawn's shielding arms. Finally, she could feel her shirt and his skin against her own body and she held on tightly to him, for once, not caring about the facts, and how Shawn was right beside her.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Shawn shouted himself hoarse as Allison laughed maniacally, and Wignall snickered along with her, enjoying seeing Juliet writhe in pain.

Panic rose in his chest as he watched Juliet's desperate and pain screaming, and then sw her body slacken after a brief struggle, finally giving out after her head hit the ground. Her screaming was reduced to pained whimpering, and he could hear every pain laced word escaping her lips as she pleaded for the feeling to stop.

'Shawn,' she whimpered, a tear escaping her eyes. Shawn paused his continuous screaming of profanities and threats, and Juliet continued, 'Help. Make it stop.'

Her voice cracked at the last word and Shawn replied, 'I promise, I will, sweetheart! Hold on, Jules! Just hold on, and I swear its going to be okay!'

'Hm, I dunno 'bout that, Shawnie,' Allison smirked.

'Let her go, Alli, we don't want her to die just yet,' Wignall said. Allison increase the voltage briefly, and Juliet's body convulsed, before pulling away the taser from her neck. Wignall went ahead and sliced off the ropes binding Shawn's hand to the table and his feet to the legs of the chair.

Shawn shot up from his seat, knocking the chair over in the process, and he couldn't have cared lass.

He dropped to his knees and gathered Juliet in his arms, holding her close as she shivered. Gradually, he felt her grasp on him tighten, and she grabbed fistfuls of his shirt. Shawn held his girlfriend close, his frantic mind deciding never to let her go as he felt her silent tears dampen his shoulder.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

 **Mushy, maybe. But do review!**


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